Authors: Latika Sharma
“I did not do it on purpose. She wasn’t going to accept it any other way.” I spoke in my defence.
“Listen to yourself! And why the hell should she accept it at all? She is engaged Kabir!! Do you know what that means for a girl? Her family is planning and executing wedding preparation . . .” Anjali threw up her hands and looked very dramatic indeed, the debater in her was alive and kicking!
“Executing . . . hmm that word I agree with! The families are executing my Riya.” I spoke looking straight in her eyes. Anjali calmed down at my remark. I think she knew I was right, which was rare and it always was difficult for her to accept that I too could be right.
“I am not here to play games Kabir. Riya has been my best friend since school. I had to pick up the pieces after you left. I was there when she was in pain, when she was broken, when she needed friends, when she was repeatedly admitted in hospitals for depression and nervous . . .”
“Wait . . . what did you just say?” I held her arm firmly. “What did I say?” she asked again.
“Right now! You said Riya was hospitalized . . . many times? Why? When?” I was shocked!
The silence that followed was overbearing. I could hear the curtains flow gently in the wind, a bird fluttered away somewhere. But mostly I could hear my hard breath that was picking pace now.
“That means she hasn’t told you anything!” Anjali looked out.
She took a deep breath and said, “I had promised her that I would never tell you . . . but now I think it’s time you know what happened after you left . . . Kabir. Riya was shattered. She cried for days, without food or water! She was unconscious with dehydration the fourth day you left India! She would get up in nights screaming your name. She was in a terrible state. I was there. So were others. Her dad had to hospitalize her, she was given all kinds of medicines but she wasn’t responding. Just like that she would begin crying and then it would go on for days . . . people even thought she would try committing suicide!”
I gripped the railing of the balcony so hard my knuckles shone through my skin.
NO! No! Not her, not my girl . . . No!
I closed my eyes and tried in vain to stop the tears from rolling out.
“She was suffering for almost two years Kabir, and you weren’t even aware! She dropped college, lost her chances at medical entrances, and you do recall that’s what she had always wanted. She would sit idle, gazing out from her window, looking at the pipes, and we all thought she would try running away. Her dad had put bars on her window, and god! How mad she was that day. Hadn’t you jumped in through them once or maybe twice?”
I nodded turning my face away. I was crying openly but din’t want Anjali to see. As if she din’t know.
“Everything had changed for her, she was an outcast. Two years!! She did nothing except cry and cry . . . for you. How I hated your guts for making her go through all this. I even tried searching for you but you were gone!
She would speak to herself, sometimes to me about all the things you two did. And just like that, she would suddenly start crying speaking about them. I would sooth her but at times her pain was unbearable and I would cry with her. She would call me up at odd hours, perhaps after thinking of you for hours before. She had nothing to speak, just mumble something silly, and I knew instantly back then that she was aching. Whenever I visited her, her eyes were puffy and she looked sickly thin. Her mom would prepare all kinds of treats, thinking she would eat in my company, but except a few morsels, nothing went down her throat. It was as if she did not care or maybe she was punishing herself for asking you to leave, for breaking your heart. I saw her diminishing from the most promising student of the school to nothing. I hated you so much Kabir. I hated god for putting my friend through so much misery. I prayed for a respite, a miracle, an angel . . . something to pull her out of this holocaust you left her in.
And then Vikram came.
He was like oxygen for her. They became acquaintances and he started dropping by. You know, Vikram’s dad and Riya’s dad know each other. Vikram din’t pity her, just made her normal, perhaps live life a bit. So afterwards when she began showing some sanity, their parents dint mind their friendship. The best thing about Vikram was that he din’t pry, never once asked what went wrong. He just liked her for what she was; I guess it wasn’t a good idea now that I think about it. But, that’s how he is, a good person.
So obviously you see, why Riya’s dad thinks he is the best man for his girl! And man . . . how wrong he is!” Anjali said nodding her head slightly.
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“There has always been one, only one man in her life Kabir. It never was Vikram.” Anjali said finally.
“But . . . she left me?” I was not coherent or aware of when I slumped down in the balcony. Riya had said that love wasn’t enough! She had said she din’t want me the way I was . . . she had left me.
“Yes she did. She left you. But don’t you get it? She did it for your own good Kabby! You stuck to her like Velcro! She knew it, I knew it . . . even your mom! You never saw anything beyond that girl. All days and all nights, you just dreamt of her, being with her, playing with her . . . that was what frightened her! You would never have become independent or work towards a career had she stuck around. You were a perpetual love held boy who was refusing to become a man! Someone had to jolt you. And that’s what she did! Though the shock of it nearly killed her too. You think she did it because her old man asked her to? No way sweetheart! She did it because she loved you so very much!”
I couldn’t believe her, yet it sounded so perfectly correct now!
I recall my mother meeting Riya many times during our board examination. Our centre for the exam was at a distance from our school, so she would drop me and then pick me from there. Anjali’s mom brought Riya along. I always felt glad mom liked Riya. It appears now that she had apparently spoken a lot to Riya.
All this while I had convinced myself that it was her father who had built the wall between us. He must have threatened her or something, I always thought. She must have had no choice. It never struck me that this break-up could actually be her self-generated idea, whose foundations were laid by our parents. I was so hurt that it went unnoticed that Riya had not come to the school to see the result for her board exam. She was in some hospital! I felt like an idiot standing in front of Anjali. How could I have not seen it? How could I misjudge her intentions? Just because she said so? Was it that easy? I knew she was talented at speech, why then did I not realise that all she said that fateful day was rehearsed?
“Go Kabby! Make something of yourself, and then come seek me. We need time away from each other!”
“No Riya! Don’t do this! I will die without you!” “Oh please Kabby! Don’t be so melodramatic! No one dies without anyone these days.”
“I will! I love you so much! I can do all that here with you. My studies, you can study whatever you like, just stay with me!! Please don’t leave or ask me to do the same. I won’t damn it!”
“No. You have to leave. I need to be alone Kabir, I need to make something of myself as Papa says. There are other important things in life!”
“More important things? More than me? Us?” I was almost in tears.
“Yes! Go now. Leave me please. Dad was right, you will see no sense! Don’t come after me. I need to make something of myself Kabby . . . and so do you. I do love you, you don’t seem to realize how much!”
“Tell me Riya, what is the matter? That day, on our farewell, you were a different person. I may be a fool in studies compared to you but I know what it felt like when . . . when you kissed me. It was not a sham I know. It was real. If you love me that much, then why? Why are you doing this now? Tell me what I did wrong and I will correct it.” I pleaded clasping my hands together.
“There . . . see. You said it again, what do you mean you will correct it? How can you when you don’t even realise what is amiss! Kabir, you cannot follow me everywhere. I will go in a separate direction and as my father said rightly, you have no direction so far. Love is not enough. Our school is over, and the real world awaits us. I have plans and . . .”
“And I don’t fit into your plans now, isn’t it? Just because your dad said so
. . .
so all this was a joke?” I was angry at her, bleeding from the searing wound she had just inflicted.
“Don’t say that Kabby. Please understand, my parents are important too, just as yours are. You need to make something of yourself. Be a man in your own rights. I have promises to keep to my folks you know, I can’t back out.”
“And me? Sure I never asked any promise from you but
. . .
was it necessary that I should have made you say it? Wasn’t what we shared enough? What more was needed to convince you how strongly attached I was to you? A stamp paper, with sign of three witnesses?” I felt stupid. Why was she being so callous?
“I’m sorry Kabir. There is nothing that I can say to you. Forgive me, if you can.” Riya spoke slowly quibbling her words.
And she had turned away and walked out of my life. I had missed seeing her frantic sobs, missed seeing her slump in Anjali’s arms after turning the bend in the road, missed seeing her cry. I did not call her or take note that no one spoke of her to realise something was wrong with her.
I was too transfixed; horrified that I had not seen how it had killed her that day to turn away from me.
“As much as I hate saying this, I want you to go and stop this stupid marriage from happening or else this time she will . . . die!” Anjali said walking towards me. I gripped her arm tightly. The word had ignited a fire in my body. Riya and death . . . never in the same sentence.
“I know . . . I have always known Kabir. I kept denying, that was my folly, my possessiveness for my friend, maybe a woman thing, I don’t know. But, I knew . . . Yes! I knew always. You two are meant for each other. She is madly in love with you. So go. Go and make my friend happy. She needs you. And by the look of it . . . you need her equally.” She motioned towards my stubble.
I smiled at her. She really was Riya’s best friend.
“Anjali . . . thank you for making this so easy for me. I assure you Riya will not cry anymore. Ever . . . as long as I have a single breath in me. She is mine. And will always be mine . . . and now . . . I am going to hug you!”
And I did. Anjali din’t push me, just whispered, ‘Thank god you are back Kabby, now let’s go!’
I swung my car within five minutes of leaving my flat.
A
s I slipped in and out of consciousness, I realized I was lying on the road; in some parking lot, perhaps. There were big things around me. My head was spinning and a familiar broken or dislodged jaw pain was searing through my skull. Someone was bent over me, calling my name. Was it Riya? No. It wasn’t her.
Then someone picked me up and things came into view. I was in a parking lot. Riya’s parking lot. Anjali was hovering over, calling my name. I looked around; Vikram was bleeding from a cut on his lip. His eye was swelling fast and he held his arm at a precarious position that suggested that I had managed to give him a hairline fracture at least.
He deserved it!
I knew I did not want to hit Vikram. I had promised Riya I would not start a fight again, without any serious provocation. All these years I had kept that promise. But today . . . Vikram had pushed me over the edge. I mean, seriously pushed me over it. I felt . . . exhilarated when I landed that first punch. My muscles felt light,buoyant, my mind was clear and despite the fact that I had an audience . . . I felt great beating the crap out of Vikram.
And definitely, he deserved it!
After I had spoken to Anjali, the next thing was obvious. I drove down to Riya’s place to meet her, encounter the situation come what may. Anjali had come along; we both thought it was a good idea. I knew I would need one person to support me amid her family, especially her infuriated old man.
En-route Anjali filled me on all that had occurred yesterday. Vikram had come home, angry as a bull that had seen red. Riya was quiet when her dad asked what had happened. Finally Vikram had enquired from Riya,
“Riya, who is Kabir?”
A silence had followed in which Riya’s dad had tried to intervene, but Vikram had silenced him, looking only at Riya.
“Vikram, it was a long time ago . . . we were friends,” Riya had not looked up.
“Friends . . . ? It sure as hell did not look just friendship to me today. I may be subservient in matters of heart, but I’m not stupid. WHO IS Kabir?” Vikram asked angrily. Riya closed her eyes.
“Ma’am
. . .
ma’am
. . .
calm down! Stop fighting me
. . .
it’s just your medicine!” the attending nurse was shouting. Riya was hysteric, in her hospital gown, shouting for Kabir!
“Someone hold her down stat
. . .
we need her down, get that doctor now!” nurses were rushing past her. Someone had left sports channel on the television and Riya saw something that rewired her mind sending her mind with longing for Kabir. Shouts and screams had soon filled her room and heralded all the station nurses on the double.
The doctor had come, administered some tranquilizer and she had slumped down delirious.
“God! This girl! What is wrong with her
. . .
and who the hell is this Kabir?” the doctor had looked at his helpless nurses and then felt Riya hold his hand softly and say
. . .
“Kabir is the boy I fell in love with . . . the boy I love . . . the boy I love so much that I broke his heart . . . the boy who is made for me . . . the only one I want, the only one I have always dreamt of, the only one who I love. Kabir is the love of my life . . . he is me and my life, the air that I breathe . . . so tell me how I should live doctor . . . without air, without him?” Was it in her dream that she had said all this? Or was it simply a deja-vu.