She Broke Up, I Didn't: I Just Kissed Someone Else! by Durjoy Datta
‘Why are you taking her side?’
‘I am not taking her side.’
‘She slept around, not me! Avantika will be fine. She will go to Mumbai with Kabir and they will be fine,’ I said.
‘You know …’
‘Malini? Can we stop talking about it?’ I grumbled.
‘Fine,’ she said. She shut up and we didn’t speak a word for the next hour. Malini would put up with my irrational mood swings those days without protest.
‘I am sorry, Malini,’ I said.
‘For what?’
‘For shouting at you … usually, messing up your life. I didn’t want you to get involved in this.’
‘If you hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t doing anything constructive before you came along and I ruined your life,’ said Malini guiltily.
‘You didn’t do that.’
‘I did. If it were not for me, you would still be with her. Both of you would have been smiling … and look at you. I totally ruined your relationship.’
‘… that you did,’ I joked and smiled at her, ‘… though I like you!’
‘You don’t have to fall in love with me.’ She smirked playfully.
‘I need a rebound. I deserve one,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘Stop flirting.’ She smiled.
‘Why?’
‘Because you are making me feel good,’ she said.
‘And that is when I haven’t even kissed you. I’m told that I’m pretty good at it. Like earth-shattering good.’
‘The last time you kissed me wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences.’ She laughed.
And soon we were talking about our first kisses. She recounted her time in Canada. For the first time, she was utterly chirpy and bubbly and I liked the new side of hers. I asked her what had turned her into the bitch she usually behaved like, and she said it was the guys she dated. Guys destroy everything. Stupid guys.
43
It was one of those nights that Avantika and I had always looked forward to; I had imagined how it would be a million times, the farewell night, the last night of our college life.
We had seen the senior farewell night and it was epic. Booze, women, music and everybody at their craziest best. The outgoing batch had danced like there was no tomorrow, which, quite literally, there wasn’t. There were last-minute proposals and rejections; there were many casual make-outs too; there were fist fights; there was riot control police; there were angry professors who swore they wouldn’t have it next year.
We had lived it before it happened and we had waited for this day. I had only imagined how good Avantika would look in the light pink sari we had picked long ago.
Things change.
She was not there that night. I looked everywhere but I could not find her. I spotted every friend of hers huddling together, hugging each other, posing for pictures, checking the pictures to spot closed eyes, and then posing again till they got it right. Even Kabir was there but she was nowhere to be seen. It seemed like it was not meant to be. I missed her. Sitting on the bench, I drank alone. I just wished things to go back to what they were before, even if it was just for that day.
Shashank and Mittal were with their girls and asked me where Avantika was, and I told them I had no idea. I started to ask around and no one had a clue; no one had seen her since the night before. After about half an hour, a classmate of ours said that she had talked to Avantika that morning. She was leaving for her local guardian’s place. Local guardian? She had no local guardian. The only local guardian she could go to was in Mumbai. She could not have left? Or had she? Panic set in.
How can she leave? She did not even say goodbye! Am I that unimportant? Is she already over me?
I ran to her hostel room, but it was locked. It was not her lock; it was a lock with an MDI emblem embossed on it. She had given up the room and she was not coming back. If only I had known that the night we fought would be the last night there, I would have done something. My fingers trembled. Where is she? I called her up but her phone was out of reach. I wondered if she was already on the flight to Mumbai.
Had our time passed us by? The last time I had seen her in that room had passed? We would never be in that room together … never again. The urge to talk was eating me inside. I called her again. Her phone was still switched off.
I didn’t know what to do. I started typing a message. I had to write ‘call me’ or ‘I miss you’, but I ended up with a lot more. I sat on those stairs with tears in my eyes and Avantika on my mind …
If I’d only known …
That this is the last time we’ve met,
I would have stopped the break of dawn.
And stopped the sun to set …
If I’d only known
That I wouldn’t ever see you again,
I would have framed a picture of you within,
To end my suffering, to end my pain.
If I’d only known,
That this is the last time I sit by your side,
I would have told you how much I loved you,
Keeping rest things aside.
If I’d only known,
That we would never hold hands again,
I would have held them strong,
And never let anything go wrong.
If I’d only known,
That you would stand always by my side,
I would have fought the world for you,
Breaking all the walls through.
If I’d only known,
That your love was true,
If I’d only known that you would come back soon,
I would have waited for you to come by.
If I’d only known any of this,
That you were what I was breathing for,
I would have breathed my last for you,
Seen you enough and bid you adieu,
While all I can do now,
Is sit here …
… and wait.
Love you.
If I’d only known …
Sitting in the darkness, alone, I fiddled with the send button for quite some time. All the nights we had spent together in that room flashed in my mind. I read the message again. I wished I had done something about it. It sucked to let her go.
‘There you are,’ Malini said as she found me. I saved the message in the drafts.
‘You were looking for me?’ I collected myself.
‘All over the place,’ she said. ‘You’re the only person I know here. Come with me now. Don’t spoil my farewell night.’
I opened the drafts folder. DELETE. I hit the button. It asked, ‘Are you sure you want to delete this?’
No.
‘Let’s go,’ I said. ‘Are you sure you want to go back to the party?’
‘Where do you want to go?’ asked Malini.
‘Anywhere but in college.’
I tried not to look at her. We headed towards my car and left the campus. I just looked at her once for her approval and she seemed to be telling me that she was okay with wherever I wanted to go.
‘Missing her?’
‘You must just hate me?’ I asked Malini.
She was probably the best dressed at the farewell that day, since her only competition had decided not to turn up. Her backless blouse showed every bit of her spotless white back and the tiny straps threatened to come loose any moment. The glittering red sari, with a clutch and the diamond jewellery, made her look like some movie star who had lost her way to the set. I had never seen her in Indian clothes and this was a welcome change. She looked nice and I felt guilty that I had not complimented her yet.
‘Why would I hate you?’
‘Last night in college and I drag you out here.’
We had driven to a creek near our college that had served as our drinking place for quite some time. Not a soul was around since alcohol was free and aplenty in the college campus for a change. Shashank, Mittal and I used to go there quite often before the Haryana police picked us up a few times on our way ba
I walked Malini to the edge and we sat there, our feet hanging from the edge of the bridge. Silence engulfed us—except for the crickets, bugs, the sound of the wind blowing through the weeds and the water gushing beneath our feet. The moon peeked from behind the clouds and reflected off the water beneath us. The redness of Malini’s lips still shone through all the darkness. Her eyes sparkled.
‘You don’t have to be sorry. I had no one else there in college. So I don’t mind.’ She picked up a stone and threw it across the creek. ‘By the way, it also means that I had just one person to impress today. But you don’t seem to care …’
‘Aw! You look stunning!’
‘It means nothing now,’ she said.
‘I would have drooled had I not been a little caught up,’ I said, trying to make it better. I looked at her once again. She looked amazing. Moreover, I had never seen someone bare so much—navel, oodles of cleavage, a flat stomach—and not look vulgar, quite like those FHM and Vogue magazine covers.
‘Thank you,’ said Malini, smiling. I kept looking at her smile, those eyes, and it reminded me of Avantika. I wished she were there. I missed her. I really did. Everything had ceased to make sense without her.
‘What happened?’ she asked me.
‘I just wished she was there this night. We had gone through this night like a zillion times before … we never thought it would end like this …’
Malini pulled my arm and made me sit closer to her on the edge of the creek. ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘Things will be fine.’
‘I hope so,’ I said, wistfully.
‘Do you have something to drink in your car?’ she asked.
‘I did pick up something from the party, I guess. Didn’t really see what it was.’
‘Let’s get drunk and make out, what say?’ She smiled wickedly. ‘After all, I do look smashing today, right?’
She desperately tried to lift my fucked-up mood.
‘Err … what?’
‘Just kidding. Let’s just do the first part.’ She laughed out aloud.
I left her at the creek and rummaged through all the clothes, books and newspapers that had accumulated on the back seat of the car. Since there was no Avantika, there was no one to ask me to clean up the car. I looked for the bottle I had thrown in. There was champagne and an unfinished bottle of vodka.
‘We have this.’ I raised both the bottles in the air as I walked towards her.
‘Not bad. Let me see.’ She read out the brand of the champagne. ‘This will put you to sleep for the rest of the night.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘I mean we all know how much you can take. It is not a secret any more.’
‘Is it? You are no better. No offence, but we have also seen how you behave when you are drunk.’ I smirked. ‘I still remember Mumbai.’
‘I will give you that.’
We both laughed.
She popped open the champagne bottle and took a huge swig at it. ‘Not bad.’ She handed over the bottle to me.
I gulped a little. ‘Nice.’
44
‘Our lives are so screwed up,’ said Malini.
We had got drunk, and though we sat in the car to drive back to college, we could not. I was seeing things in twins and even triplets and the road looked like a long, winding snake, dangerous. She had never driven a car with gears, so we were stuck there until the time I could drive. We flattened our seats, kicked open the doors and decided to catch a little rest before we would go back.
‘I know,’ I said and held her hand.
‘Why isn’t there a sunroof in your car?’ she said, looking up.
‘I should get one.’
‘At least I could have seen the stars,’ she said and ran her fingers on my face.
‘You can see me instead of the stars,’ I said. ‘Though I’m more of a black hole than a star.’
‘You go and see Avantika.’
‘She is never coming back … she is history …’ I said and held her hand tighter.
‘She will never be history. Your lives are intertwined.’
‘I am history for her …’
‘That can never be,’ she said.
‘Why are we talking about her? Let’s talk about us.’
‘There is nothing to talk about us,’ she said, stiffening up a little.
‘Why? Had she not been around, I would have definitely asked you out. You’re beautiful and smart and hot and you get me. What more can I ask for?’
‘Had she … Anyway, I think I would have rather gone out with Mittal than you. But you, too, would have had a decent shot, you know,’ said Malini, and smiled.
‘Would have had? We still can, Malini.’
‘I can’t fight with memories of Avantika. And you wouldn’t be able to … memories of him,’ she said wistfully. She stared into the distance, and we fell silent. Time passed and she just lay there in my arms and said nothing.
‘Thinking of him?’ I asked finally.
‘Thinking of us,’ she said.
I wished I had a sunroof.
45
After college ended, I was one of the few students who had a three-month break before joining the firm I had been placed in. Many of my classmates had already joined their firms, hung nooses around their necks, belts around their waists and prepared for a life of servitude and low job satisfaction. Shashank had moved to Bangalore for his investment bank job. Mittal had joined the Mumbai office of his company and had started complaining. Avantika, too, had joined the company we had once interned at.
‘Nice place!’ I said. ‘Isn’t it a little empty?’
‘I know. It’s a little too big for me. But I will fill it up,’ Malini said as she sat on one of the cardboard boxes, taped and stuffed with her books, clothes, showpieces and what not.
‘So how was Canada?’ I asked her.
Malini had left for Canada the day after the farewell night for fifteen days. But she was back in town and she had called me because she needed someone to help her shift. I had been waiting for her call.
‘It was good,’ she said. ‘I met old friends, relatives … it was fun. I missed Canada, man.’
‘Did you meet him and break up, like, officially?’
‘We were never together, but yes, broken up.’
‘So any post-break-up depression?’ I asked her.
‘Not really … it is okay. I have moved on,’ she said as she ripped open one of the cardboard boxes and looked for something inside it.
‘See.’ She handed me a bunch of photographs.
‘Aha … nice! I don’t know how long it has been since I last saw photographs like these,’ I said while I went over the pictures. ‘Nice.’ I handed the bundle back to her.
‘So, Deb, what’s on the Avantika front?’ she asked. ‘Did you call her yet?’
‘We have moved on. She has stopped messaging or calling. Just one odd message a day. She is fine with herself, I guess. Kabir is there too … so maybe they are together. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Why are we talking about her again? I have moved on too.’
‘Okay, we won’t … So what else?’
‘Boring days … and yeah … I missed you.’
‘Where are you putting up?’
‘Remember Nitin?’ She nodded. ‘I’m living with him. He leaves for office early morning and I pretty much have nothing to do. But he keeps the house clean and doesn’t really bother me, so it’s fine.’
‘Any plans for the day?’
‘I am very busy, Malini. I have to go back home, log into Facebook, update my Linked In profile twice in three days and play Angry Birds all day long. I don’t think I have time at all.’
‘Help me unpack?’ Her puppy face made it hard for me to refuse, not that I would have anyway.
‘Sure.’
For the n
‘Malini?’
‘Yes?’
‘I think you need some furniture,’ I said. ‘People generally like to sit and sleep … but then, entirely your choice.’
‘Very funny,’ she said.
The house was beautiful, but it was bare. Apart from the two beds in the two rooms, the cupboards and a sofa in the living room, the house was empty. No study tables, no chairs and nowhere to put all the stuff she had carried to that place.
‘Whose house is this anyway?’ I asked her as we boarded the auto to Panchkuiya, the furniture market near Connaught Place. She had requested me to come along and I could not say no. The last fifteen days had been super boring and this was a welcome change, even if it was just buying furniture.
‘My maasi used to live here before they moved to Canada. They want to keep it as an investment, so I am using it. It’s a nice house.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Good for them, too. An occupied house is always well maintained,’ she said coldly.
The auto driver zipped through the streets of Connaught Place and we reached the market, lined with furniture shops for the classes and the masses.
‘Bas, bhaiya!’ She tapped the auto driver’s shoulder to make him stop. She paid him and asked him to keep the change.
‘So what all are we looking for?’
‘Study table first,’ she said and led me into a small furniture shop and asked me to pick one. She stood there with her hands on her waist as I looked at every piece and remarked that they all looked the same. We spent the entire day choosing, haggling and buying furniture of all shapes and sizes. I had absolutely no design sense so I had kept quiet for most part of it as she picked out pieces with unparalleled decisiveness. Within a few hours, she had picked out a couple of study tables, a few chairs, a few stools that I had no idea where she would put, a few lamps and other pieces of furniture that seemed pretty useless and strange.