Half Girlfriend (9 page)

‘Whatever, let’s go back in.’

She stood up.‘You liked my parents?’

I nodded.You can’t say you didn’t like someone’s parents.

‘Good. Come, let’s go in before they start getting ideas.’

Ideas? What ideas?
I wanted to ask her.

We walked into the garden.The music drowned out my thoughts.

The younger crowd danced around the pool. Rohan danced with

Riya’s friends. He called out to us. I wondered if I could pretend to

dance and kick Ro into the water.

Of course, I didn’t do that. I refused to dance. I couldn’t embarrass

myself in front of this crowd. In Dumraon, we danced like mad

people. We played loud music and moved our bodies frantically. Also,

men and women never danced together. Here, Rohan danced with each

girl for a few seconds. Sometimes, he would hold their hand while

dancing, and the girl would be all giggles. What is so funny about a

rich guy holding your hand? He even held Riya’s hand once. She

twirled around him. My internal organs twirled inside me. I couldn’t

do anything but look away.

A waiter came up to me.

‘Are you Madhav jha, sir?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I said, surprised he knew my name.

‘I am from Dumraon, too.’

‘Oh, how do you know I am from there?’

'The guard outside told me. Nice to meet you, sir. Feels like I’ve

met someone from home.’

The waiter spoke to me for few minutes, shook my hand and left.

Riya raised her eyebrows from the dance floor, wondering what I

was doing with the waiter. I shook my head and smiled.

There are things some people can never understand. There’s no

point telling them.

9

'Even I have no fucking idea what sushi is,’ Ashu said.

‘It’s Japanese food. How the fuck are we supposed to know? Do

they know our litti-chokha?’ Raman said.

He dug his fork deep into the mound of biryani piled high on his

plate. We were in the dining hall for Sunday dinner and a post-mortem

of Riya’s party.

‘Sushi is no big deal. The bigger deal is she didn’t make you feel

special,’ Shailesh said.

He adjusted his spectacles and drank a glass of water. Shailesh,

always the straight talker, had silenced everyone with his statement.

The sound of cutlery filled the awkward silence.

‘Trouble, brother, trouble,’ Shailesh said, after a minute.

'But she kissed him,’Ashu said.

‘Toys. Told you about rich people and their toys,’ Shailesh said.

I ate my food. My friends further analysed the situation. In my

heart I knew Riya didn’t see me as a toy. We had a connection. But my

heart can be over-imaginative and stupid.

‘I’ll talk to her,’ I said.

‘What? Enough talking. Now do,’ Raman said.

‘Do what?’ I said.

Raman shook his head. Everyone smiled.

‘Listen, Madhav, I don’t want to break your heart. But you do

know such a girl is beyond you,’ Raman said.

‘What do you mean?’ I said, putting my fork down on the table.

‘Look at them. Look at you. You forgot your aukaat or what?’

Raman had spoken in a flat, controlled voice. However, it hurt. It

hurt like he had taken his blunt fork and jabbed it into my chest. It

hurt because he didn’t think I deserved Riya. It hurt because he had

spoken the truth.

‘Why does she hang out with me all the time?’ I said. ‘She can

have all the rich friends she wants. In fact, she does.’

‘You are the new exotic creature in her life. She’s bored with

everything else,’ Raman said.

‘Are you always this pessimistic?’ Ashu said. Only the fat kid

supported me. I transferred the gulab jamun from, my plate on to his.

‘The statistical probability is low,’ Shailesh said, in his academic

voice.‘However, my friend Raman should know that love does happen

between classes.’

‘If this is love, why is she avoiding a relationship?’ Raman said. He

stood up to leave. He had finished his dinner and what he wanted to

say.

Ashu thanked me for the gulab jamun. ‘Raman has no experience

with girls. You are doing well. Take it slow. Everything will be fine,’ he said.

‘What do you think, Shailesh?’ I said.

Of the four of us, I trusted Shailesh’s judgement the most. He

topped the class and was the most well-read. Of course, like us, he had

little experience with women. He drank another glass of water.

‘Yes, don’t rush it. However, don’t stall it either,’ Shailesh said.

‘What does that mean?’ Ashu said on my behalf.

‘Keep it slow, but keep escalating,’ Raman said.

‘Escalating? What? How?’ I said.

‘What’s the clearest sign a girl likes you?’ Shailesh said.

‘She spends time with you?’ I said.

‘Wrong,’ Shailesh said and stood up as well.

‘So then?’ I said.

‘You know the answer. Now do it,’ Shailesh said and left.

*

‘What do you want to talk about?’ Riya said.

She had worn a lemon-coloured chikan salwar-kameez to college

that day. We sat under the big banyan tree in between classes. Her hair

blew in all directions in the afternoon breeze.

‘Thanks for the party,’ I said.

‘You are welcome. Like I told you, it isn’t really my scene but my

parents wanted to do it.’

‘Riya, that’s your world. It was me who didn’t fit in.’

‘I can fit in, but I can’t relate to it. I’d rather have a meaningful

conversation over chai than catered sushi with plastic smiles.’

‘How’s Rohan? Sorry, Ro,’ I said.

‘He made quite an impression on you. He’s cool, no?’

‘See, you find him cool. That is your world; I said.

‘He’s over the top and a bit of a show-off. But at least Rohan's fun.

The rest are all boring businessmen who only talk money and

property.’

‘Go have fun then,’ I said and looked away from her.

She tugged at my elbow.

‘Anyway, forget the party. Eye contact, please.’

Eyes squinting against the mid-morning sun, she draped her yellow

dupatta around her face. She looked like a bunch of yellow flowers. I

had to be firm. I ignored how cute she was, lest it weaken my resolve.

‘What did you want to talk about?’ she asked again.

‘The kiss,’ I said.

Riya giggled.‘I can’t believe I am the girl and you are the guy. The

guy wants to talk about it.’

‘Very funny. Now can we discuss it?’

‘What about the kiss? You forced it on me.’

Her answer stumped me. I didn’t know what to say.

‘I... I did it because...' I fumbled for words.

‘Yes, why? Why did you do it, Mr Jha?’

‘Because I...I love you.’

Riya burst out laughing. I didn’t like her laughter this time.

‘Can you please be serious? Your casual behaviour hurts me,’ I

said.

She composed herself and sat cross-legged under the tree.

‘Okay, fine, Madhav, I will be serious. I laughed because I don’t

think you are in love with me.’

‘Oh, really? How do you know that?’

‘Have you been in love before?’

‘No.’

‘So how do you know it’s love?'

Her confusing words left me tongue-tied.

‘How do you know it’s not?’ I said after half a minute.

‘I know it is not, We are both too young, inexperienced but

curious. Sure, we like each other. But love? Please.’

'Riya, you have no idea how much you mean to me. I would do

anything for you. Anything,’ I said.

Our eyes locked. For a few seconds, even the articulate Miss Riya

Somani didn’t have words.

‘Madhav, you mean a lot to me too. But...'

‘But what?’

‘I am not sure if I want a relationship right now. With anyone.’

How does one answer that? I had no idea.

‘I don’t mean that much to you then,’ I said.

‘We hang out all the time. Aren’t we almost a couple?’

‘So what’s wrong with the next step?’

The bell rang for class. We stood up to leave.

‘What’s the next step, Madhav?’ she said, as we walked towards

class.

I scratched my head to think of an answer.

‘Become my girlfriend.’

‘Oh. And what does that involve? Getting physical?’

‘Maybe. That’s often part of it.’

She smiled and shook her head in an all-knowing manner.

We stopped as we reached our respective classrooms.

‘Please, Riya,’ I said. 'Please be my girlfriend.’

‘Is this a proposal?’ she said.

‘If that’s how you see it.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘You’ll tell me after class?’

She grabbed my shoulders and turned me towards my classroom, *

Riya didn’t come to college the next day. I briefed my friends-cum-

relationship-experts about the proposal while eating lunch in the

dining hall.

Shailesh felt I had come across as desperate. Ashu thought I had

handled it well.

‘Well, did she tell you her decision afterwards?’ Raman said, ‘No.

And today she is absent,’ I said.

‘See? Desperate. She's skipped college to avoid you,’ Shailesh said.

‘To avoid me?’

Shailesh shrugged.

‘You better get an answer,’ Raman said.

‘You better
do
it with her,’ Shailesh said. Everyone fell silent.

‘Do what?’ I said. The boys guffawed.

‘You guys are sick.’

‘She’s using you. Time pass until a real guy comes along,’ Shailesh

said, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

‘Ignore Shailesh. Find out why she’s absent. Message her,’ Ashu

said.

‘Should I? She’s supposed to answer my question,’ I said.

The boys didn’t answer either. I came to my room after lunch. I

had a mobile phone now. Even though expensive, I would use it

sometimes to call Riya.

I composed a message.
Did not see you in college. Everything

OK?

I deleted the text and re-typed it three times. Finally, I pressed send.

The worst wait in life is waiting for someone to text back. Riya

didn’t answer for an hour. It felt like a week. After that one hour, I

sent the same message again. That way, it would come across as a

double delivery rather than me being desperate. It is funny how, when

friendship moves towards a relationship, every message requires

awareness and strategy.The second message went, disguised as a

screw-up of Airtel.

She didn’t reply for another hour. I wanted to call her. It felt lame.

I had proposed to her. The least she could do was give me a reply.

I also felt scared.
What if she said no?
Maybe her silence meant no.
What if she stopped talking to me?
Panic gripped me. I wondered if proposing to her was the worst mistake of my life.

I decided to call her. I typed her number six times. But I did not

press the green call button. I didn’t have the courage.

My phone beeped. I had a new message. I opened it.

Am sick :( . Viral fever. Resting at home.

Relief coursed through me. She had sent back a normal, harmless

message. I wanted to ask about the proposal, but it felt like a bad time.

Unsure, I froze.
Why don’t they teach us how to talk to girls?

Get well soon
, I sent after rigorous analysis and deliberation in my head.

Thanks, she said.

Miss you
, I typed. Before I could think I pressed send.

She didn’t respond for a minute. It felt like a decade. Had I messed

up again? Was it not the right thing to say?

Then come home. Cheer me up.

Her message felt like a thousand red rose petals on my face. I

checked my timetable. Damn, I had four important, un-skippable

classes. I couldn’t go.

See you in an hour
, I said. Classes can wait. Love can’t.

10

I knocked on the door of Riya’s bedroom, located on the first floor

of her house.

‘Come in, Madhav,’ Riya said and sniffled, ‘Meet your sick friend.’

She was in bed, leaning against the backrest with her legs stretched

out. She wore a white night-suit with pink dots all over it. She looked

like candy, more cute than ill. Viral fever suited her.

‘Wait. Come back in again. I should sit with a thermometer in my

mouth,’ she said.

I smiled and sat on a chair near her bed.

‘How are you feeling?’ I said.

She shifted to the side and bent to look under the bed. She pulled

out a guitar. Strumming it once, she started to sing.

‘Terrible, I feel terrible. And I need a hug.’

I looked at her, surprised.

‘Because I’m sure. That is my only cure.'

She saw my shell-shocked face and winked at me. Even though

she sang as a joke, I loved her voice and the goofy lyrics of her song.

‘You sing well,’ I said, ‘and the guitar-playing is not bad either.’

‘Ha ha. I feel terrible. I also sing terribly,’ she said.

‘No you don’t.You’re good,' I said.

She smiled and kept her guitar aside. She spread her arms.

‘What?’ I said.

‘I said I need a hug.’

It is funny how women feel they have the right to demand physical

affection whenever they want, but men can’t. Like a trained pet, I

stood up and bent to embrace her.

‘You don’t have fever,’ I said as I held her. Her body felt cold, in

fact.

‘I did a few hours ago. I took a nap and now I am better.’

‘You are fine.’

She mock-frowned. 'I am a sick girl. Please take care of me,’ she

said in a baby voice.

I took that as a sign that she was in a good mood. I voiced what

had been haunting me for the past twenty-four hours.