You Were My Crush: Till You Said You Love Me! (7 page)

He laughed about it, and bitched about Sonil; I hoped Eshaan would realize how wrong Sonil was for him.

Deb had not yet found the perfect ring, and he had been everywhere in Delhi to look for it. He had even called his ex-girlfriends and Avantika’s friends to help him out with the selection of the ring, but he just could not choose one. That day when my phone rang and I saw Avantika’s name flashing, I wondered if Deb had found the ring and proposed.

‘Hey,’ she said.

‘Hi, Avantika! Long time.’

‘Yes, how are you? Are you and Palak still … you know?’ she asked.

‘No! Not at all. Never met her after that day.’

‘Aw. Sad for you. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something about Deb. He is behaving a little strangely.’

‘As in?’ I asked and put the phone on loudspeaker.

‘He is a little too
happy
, Benoy. He doesn’t call as often
and is always busy. It’s been quite a while since he asked me to patch up with him. It’s so unlike him.’

‘So why are you so worried?’

‘I am not worried. I am happy for him. But then … Okay, Benoy, I will ask you something. Please don’t lie to me.’

‘I won’t!’ I said.

‘Has he found
someone
?’ she asked in all seriousness.

Only God knows how hard I tried not to laugh when she said that.

‘I don’t know and I am not lying.’

‘I am so sorry, Benoy, to drag you into this. I am just scared that I might have pushed him away. I should not have made him
wait
this long. I should have patched up.’

‘Chill, Avantika.’

‘But what if he is
with
someone else? I even saw his messages on a friend’s phone. I could not read them but he
never
texts my friends. Why did he text
her
?’

‘Why are you getting so scared? This is what you wanted, right? You always asked him to look for someone else since you could never see him as your guy again,’ I argued.

‘I never thought he would go away. I just wanted him to run after me a little more! It’s not that he has not tried to make me jealous before, but this time, I feel something is up.’

‘You are thinking too much, Avantika.’

‘I don’t know. Did he tell you something?
Anything?
He must have talked to you?’

Deb, who was sitting with me, had listened to the entire thing on loudspeaker, smiling stupidly like an orang-utan. I felt happy for him.

I assured Avantika that she had nothing to worry about and she disconnected the call.

‘Benoy, don’t you think marrying her right now would be a little too drastic? We can
wait
, right? As you said, I’m still young!’ Deb said and smiled.

‘You’re such an asshole, Deb,’ I barked.

‘Chill, I’m not going to stop looking for a ring. But it’s good to know that she won’t reject me when I go down on one knee,’ he responded.

‘So happy for you, man,’ I said and hugged him, and felt sorry for myself. He was convinced about the big steps he wanted to take in his life, and I couldn’t even ask Diya about her sister.

I was at Dad’s office signing papers that day.

Luckily he was busy in a meeting so he could not come out to see me. I signed the papers quickly and left the office. I smiled at the few girls that worked there. It was not that bad a place. I could have worked there for my internship. Anyway, I walked to the underground parking space and towards my car, my eyes darting to spot the car Dad used to drive.

The beautiful silver-grey Bentley.

I looked at it and wondered if there was anything that a man could want more. I walked past it, trying not to drool, headed to where my car was parked and beeped it open. I put the key into ignition and reversed the car out of its parking space, but the car stuttered, jerked a little and came to a rude stop. I shut the engine down and tried again.

Kharrr … Khaarhh … Khaarhhh.

The car stuttered for a while and came to a stop. I gave it a few more tries, pushing the pedal all the way down, but the car died on me again.

And then, there was smoke rising from inside the hood of the car.
Darn
. Frantically, I stepped out from the car and stood at a distance, just in case it decided to blow up; it happens all the time in the movies. I waited for the smoke to settle down. I stood there watching the smoke settle, and then tried to call a cab, but the network was terrible.

‘Is there a problem, Benoy?’ a voice called out. I wondered if it was Jack the Ripper, but it was my father.

‘It died,’ I said and pointed to the car.

It was still spewing out fumes. Diya would jump and dance and laugh if she were to see the car bathed in white smoke; she had been trying to make me use public transport instead. She was appalled to see how much I spent on fuel alone.

‘The network doesn’t work here in the basement,’ he said. ‘You want me to drop you somewhere?’

I considered it for a few brief seconds, and then thought,
What the heck
; at least I would get to sit inside the shiny Bentley. I felt like a cheap pervert as I looked at the car, wanting to take it out, get it drunk on diesel, drive her around town, to take its top off and stare at the bare V8 engine. I
lusted
after it.

I nodded my head and he tossed the keys towards me and said, ‘You can drive.’

My hands trembled, my lips quivered, I sweated and blood rushed to every part of my body; it was an orgasm.

‘Great car,’ I said even though describing it as just ‘
great
’
was an insult. It’s like calling Lana Del Rey just another girl; it’s like calling the Beatles a boy band.

‘Your mother used to love this car a lot, too,’ he said, almost mumbled. ‘I used to be scared when she used to drive this.’

‘
What?
Drive?’

‘Yes. She never told you that she drove this car?’

‘No, she didn’t. All I knew was she didn’t want me to have this car.’

I knew they met now and then, but I did not know that Mom drove his car. All I knew was that she hated him!

‘She loved this car. I actually bought one for you but she didn’t let me give it to you,’ he explained.

‘I know about that. I don’t know why she would keep me away from something this awesome?’ I said as I pushed on the gas, making the beast roar.

‘She didn’t want you to be anything like me. Or do anything the way I do it.’

‘How does owning the same car make me like you?’

‘That’s exactly what I told her. But she just didn’t listen,’ he said.

I found it hard to put all this together. Like him and my mother talking about the kind of car I should get. I always thought that my hatred for him was a continuation of my mom’s hatred for him.

‘This is so much better than the Audi,’ I said.

‘You can keep it.’

‘It’s hard to say no to such a car,’ I said. I felt like such a sell-out, a disgrace. It felt like betraying Mom, but it was she who was talking to him, not me.

‘Then don’t. Just keep it. Anyway, it takes up way too much space in my garage,’ he said, like a salesperson, only that he was buying me; I felt worse.

‘Thank you.’ I sold. I could almost see Mom shaking her head, pointing a finger at me and saying, ‘You’re greedy.’

We reached Barakhamba Road where he said he would get down.

‘Thank you for the lift,’ I said.

‘Thank you for the lift, Benoy. It’s your car now,’ he said and smiled.

‘Thank you for the car.’

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with my dad.

Until I was seventeen, I had barely heard him talk, and I assumed, like all steel traders, he would sound like a rustic, uneducated businessperson. I had no idea that over the years he had made up for his lack of education and how! What I really hated about him was his British accent! I mean, how could he be
cooler
than me? That is never how a father–son equation works!

It was hard growing up without a father. But it was even harder to stay angry when you miss having a family, a family that could possibly have a
cool dad
.

I drove around in the new car for about an hour, testing its limits in the open wide roads, and then came back home. I parked the car outside my house and, out of habit, I pulled open the glove compartment for the house keys.

A
package
fell out. I emptied the glove compartment, collected the spare keys from the neighbours and headed
home. I checked the boot space for stuff that my father may have forgotten there, but there was nothing. I dumped everything on the living room table and flopped on the couch, still fantasizing about the car. I called up my father’s personal assistant to come and collect the stuff but no one picked up the phone. I dropped in a message.

I called up Diya to tell her about the new car.

‘Hey!’

‘You sound happy?’ she said. ‘What happened? Did your father buy you Russia or something?’

‘You should meet me! Like right now? Can you do that?’

‘I don’t know. I will have to ask Mom. I will call you back if she decides to let me live.’

‘Fine, do that and call me. ASAP.’

Diya had always had trouble getting permission to go out of the house. Her parents were a nightmare. No guys. No late evenings. No night-outs.

I waited for her call; intermittently I would look out of the window and admire the car in the parking space. I could not wait to show it to Diya, Deb or whomever I could have got hold of.

I called her again, but she cut my calls. Then, just out of boredom, I started sifting through the stuff I had got out from the car’s glove compartment. I picked up the package, which was deliciously sealed, pasted and taped.

And until this day, I wonder how my life would have been had I not
opened
that envelope.

There are times in life when a few seconds change everything. Either you are irreversibly fucked, or you hit a jackpot, but regardless, nothing remains the same.

I had that moment then when I opened that envelope; everything changed. It was indescribable what I felt because I felt happy and sad and beautiful and cheated; I felt like crying, but I also felt like laughing.

I held the envelope and tried not to cry, a million questions in my head. I did not know what to feel. I felt lied to. Cheated on.

But I felt happy.
I lay there speechless, on the couch, with the phone in my hand, and there was just one question I wanted to ask!

Why?

I called Diya again and explained to her what I had found.

‘So what exactly are you saying?’ Diya said, as I told her what I had seen.

‘Hmm. You didn’t get it? These are letters. Pictures. Even tickets to Sikkim. There was a micro SD card with pictures of them.
Together
. They looked happy. And this was not when I was eight or something. This was when I was fourteen, fifteen, and even sixteen. Even a year before Mom died. Together, the two of them …
they even went on a trip together
.’

‘So?’

‘What? So? It means she was still meeting him while I thought she was angry with him! What does all this even freaking mean? My mom kept talking about how bad a father he was, that he cheated on her, and these pictures?’ I said.

Silence.

‘The only reason why I was angry with my dad was because my mom was angry with him! But this …’

It felt like someone had pulled a nasty joke on me. I did not know what to make of all that. Wasn’t I supposed to be angry and pissed off at him? I was supposed to stay away from him.

I was furious because I had missed out on having a family, a proper functioning family with both my parents together. This was just unfair. The picture of them by the river, in an upscale restaurant holding hands, the picture of them in a cable car. It really did not look like she was mad at him. They seemed happy! Mom looked happy in those pictures.

‘Why don’t you talk to your aunt?’ Diya suggested.

‘You think she would know anything about this?’ I asked her.

‘If anyone would—’

‘I should leave then,’ I said and picked up the car keys. I gathered all the pictures and other stuff and put them back in the envelope. ‘Come with me, Diya. I can even show you then what I wanted to.’

‘
What?
Wasn’t this what you wanted to show me?’

‘No! I will be outside your place in ten minutes,’ I said and disconnected the call. She was waiting when I got there.

‘What?’ she said. ‘You got to be kidding me!’ she shrieked in pure excitement. ‘I am sure your dad can buy Russia too!’

‘Why the fixation with Russia?’ I asked and she just laughed.

We sat in the car and left for Deb’s mom’s place. Diya
loved
the car.

‘Benoy, are you sure I should come? It’s your family matter,’ she said.

‘I want you around,’ I said.

As I drove, my questions, my anxiety and my anger tapered down. I thought if Mom could forgive him, so could I. After all, I was not half as nice a person as Mom was. By the time I reached my aunt’s place, I was sure that no matter what explanation I would get, I would forgive my father.

It was time.

‘Beta?’ she said, as she opened the door and I handed over the envelope. I touched her feet.

‘Go through it,’ I said and introduced Diya.

They both smiled at each other and she asked us to sit. She slowly went through all of it, alternating between
looking at me and what was in her hands. She didn’t look shocked. She just looked sorry that I had got to know.

‘Who gave you this?’ she asked, her hand on mine.

‘That doesn’t matter. What’s all this?’ I said. ‘And I know you know.’

‘I don’t know what to say, Benoy.’

‘You don’t know what to say? I grew up without him being around because my
mom
asked me to stay away from
him
. Then what was all this? Trips? Dinners? Just tell me anything. Anything would do! Seriously. Tell me anything and I would believe you,’ I said desperately, angry that I was the last to know.

‘See, Benoy. I wouldn’t lie to you.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘See, beta. It is not how you think it was. Your mother had a tough time dealing with your dad. He was nice when they got married, but then he got involved with his work, his business, and he just forgot he had a wife and kid at home. It was really hard for your mother. She used to cry for days on end. I saw her go through that. And with you, he just became
worse
. He wanted to turn you into him. He was strict and would even go about beating you, even when you were just a little kid. And that’s why she left him. Not because he cheated, not because he didn’t give her time, but because he was a very bad father to you and she couldn’t take it.’

‘I don’t remember any of it.’

‘You don’t remember because your mother brought you up like that,’ she said.

‘But why this?’

‘You know your father always kept tabs on you and
your mother. He still does. After your mother discovered that she had cancer, she didn’t tell anybody, not even
you
. But your father, he knew. And he begged, he almost literally signed off all of his businesses to his partners just to be with your mother. Eventually, she forgave him, but she still wanted to punish him for being a bad father. What you have in your hands is their last times together. As husband and wife.’

‘Okay.’

‘It’s not like how you think, Benoy. She always thought about you first. She just didn’t want you to turn out like him, that’s why she kept you away,’ she said.

She clutched my hands, expecting me to break down into tears, and hugged me. I ruffled that package in my hands. I was not crying. I was smiling. I was glad that Mom had Dad around during her last days; she looked
happy
in those pictures, content. I had more to remember her by, and I was glad that she had a nicer time during her fading days. I knew she would not want anything bad for me.

I left her place in another twenty minutes, with the envelope in my hand and a strange sense of happiness even though I had just found out that my mother had lied to me about her relationship with my dad and kept me away from it, and I just got assured that I had a terrible childhood.

‘That was sweet,’ Diya said.

‘What was sweet?’

‘You cried.’

‘
Me?
No! I didn’t. I’m like Schwarzenegger in my head, buff and strong. I never cry—crying is for girls.’

‘You had tears in your eyes.’

‘Well, that and crying are two very different things. And the tears part won’t ever be mentioned. It never happened,’ I said, not looking at Diya.

‘I thought it was very sweet to see you cry! At least it showed you have a heart,’ she said.

‘Emotional crap. I’m Schwarzenegger and the Hulk. I only get angry, not sad and weepy.’

‘Whatever. I am glad you brought me along. I would have missed out on that. And your aunt is so sweet. Despite you being sad, she just couldn’t stop offering me something to eat!’

I wasn’t sad and weepy; I was just glad and amused. I mean there must have been times that Mom would have lied to me and secretly gone out on a date with her ex-husband, my father!
That is cute, isn’t it?

‘Though, Benoy, I really don’t get something,’ Diya said. ‘How can you be this
stupid
?’

‘What stupid?’

‘Do you really think that your car breaking down, your father offering you the car you have always liked in his parking lot and the envelope in the glove compartment of the car … do you really think all this is a
coincidence
? I do not think your dad is that stupid, Benoy! He
planned
it.’

Fuck. He planned it. Obviously.