Thanks Mohit Anjali answered ever so sweetly

As I stepped outside the steps of CCD, I fished for my mobil in my jeans pocket and called Anjali. I wanted to speak to her, to tell her that I needed to meet her as soon as possible for the most important part of my life hung in the balance. Her mobile rang but there was no answer and soon the sweet voiced Airtel lady was on the other side telling me to call later. I tried again but to no avail. I guess this would have to wait. I wondered what was keeping her from picking up her mobile. Sleeping maybe? Or had kept the mobile on silent mode and forgotten about it. Probably the latter.

I once again kicked my bike into gear and sped away from CCD leaving Virat and Sheetal to have their romantic camaredries. Knowing them they would probably end up in a petty argument. ‘Kids,’ I told myself.

I sped my bike up the slope and towards college. As I neared the college gates I wondered if I should go back to the hostel or not. I decided not to. Now was not the time to go back to the hostel. I was too over come with excitement to sit still in my room anyways. I needed a plan of action. Now that Anjali wasn’t picking up her phone it gave me more time to decide how exactly to go about telling her that I did love her. Not that she didn’t know that. But I still wanted to surprise her. A simple ‘I love you’ wouldn’t do. It had to be special. Something that she would remember forever like her birthday. But what? Another set of firecrackers saying I love you? That was an idea alright but then it was a repeated one. The beauty of every special thing lies in it being the first time-after that the charm wears off. And though the firecrackers might still surprise her, the fact that I had already done this before wouldn’t make it as beautiful as it was the first time when I had used it on her birthday.

I turned my bike towards the Kasturba Hospital for no unknown reason. I suddenly realized I needed to sit and think about this. At a place where serenity would be at its peak. The answer came immediately. End point. Where else but end point? The cool breeze, the beautiful valley, the lush and green grass and along with that my thoughts. About the girl I loved. About Anjali.

As I sped along the road towards end-point, I sighted the Cosmos restaurant and suddenly I felt hungry for tarts. Chocolate tarts. No idea why for I was just in CCD a while ago but the hunger pangs were too big to ignore. I turned my bike towards Cosmos for chocolate tarts were a must now. I took the left turn and headed for the parking near Cosmos. But just then, as I was about to turn towards the parking ground of Cosmos, I sighted the girl who I had been searching for so long. Anjali was there. I stopped my bike to look at her. Standing near one of the tables, she was facing me and in a conversation with another guy. She seemed low, almost unsure as to what she was doing there but slowly she seemed to be warming upto whatever this conversation was about. I thought of going in and talking to her. Heck, I was going in anyways so why avoid this chance co-incidence. Maybe chocolate tarts had brought her here too. I smiled at the thought of it as I started my bike again and slowly sped it along the parking ground. Parking the bike, I got off and headed towards the restaurant. As I was walking, I started revolving the bike keys in my hand and whistling for no reason what so ever. Or maybe there was a reason. Chocolate tarts. Well-not exactly chocolate tarts. But I was pretty sure I was about to test the best chocolate tarts in the world right now.

I stepped onto the porch of Cosmos where some of the tables had been aligned neatly for those who wanted to enjoy nature while having their dinner. I walked on the proch past the rows of tables, still whistling as if without a care in the world. Then I stopped. For the sight in front of me was one I hadn’t exactly expected. Anjali was in an embrace with the guy she had been talking to a few minutes ago. She was still facing me but she seemed to be too caught up in the arms whoever she was embracing for she didn’t notice me at all. She had closed her eyes and was holding the guy in a tigh embrace as if meeting a long lost friend. It wasn’t the fact that she was embracing another guy that got to me. It was the way she was embracing him. Her arms wrapped tight around him, her head resting on her chest, her eyes closed and she completely lost in the moment of that embrace. As if it signified something greater than just an embrace. As if it signified something that only those two people caught in the embrace could understand. I had hugged her like that. Like nothing else mattered. And to see her embrace her someone else so deeply, so emotionally-it somehow got to me. I couldn’t move any further. I had to see who the guy was. Who had got to Anjali the way I felt only I had got to her

I waited outside to get a glimpse of the guy. Somewhere in my heart I knew who it was. Yet I wanted to do everything to try and not believe that. To believe that it couldn’t possibly be him. To believe that it was just an old friend whom she hadn’t met in a long time. Or maybe a friend with whom she had some sort of disagreement and they were making up now. But then she would have told me if something like that had happened. She would have even told me if she was going to meet an old friend. Then who…who could be this guy about whom Anjali never told me about for the way she hugged it was clear he was more than just another ‘good friend.’

They released each other from the embrace and then turned towards the counter. As they walked, he whispered something in her ears and she immediately started laughing. Dammit! This guy could make her laugh too. I still couldn’t make out his face from the side view. I waited to see who he was though with each passing moment my heart wrenched tighter in anguish. ‘Please let it not be him. Please God…please let it not be him!’ I thought to myself. Don’t do this to me now God. Not when I am so close. Not when I have decided what I must do. Not when I am ready to accept her as the single most important thing of my life. Please God. It can’t be him. Anyone but him.’

I could feel my heart in my mouth as he walked with Anjali-side by side, their hands almost touching. I had a feeling he was trying to grab hold of them. To hold her hands in his as if he had done this before. His hand brushed against hers and my heart leapt at the thought of them embracing again. She seemed to be laughing and enjoying this moment as if she had been missing it for so long-she was clearly lost in the presence of his company. He seemed to have a magnetic effect on her. As if when he talked to her, she didn’t care about anything else in the world. As if she had been in this moment before, as if she had felt it and she was reliving the glory of it all over again.

As they laughed together walking towards the counter, his head suddenly turned towards me. And in one clear moment I could see who it was that had Anjali completely besotted like she was a 16 year old girl meeting her childhood crush. I had never talked to him, never faced him yet I felt as I knew him. As if almost every thing thad had happened in my life these past few months wouldn’t have taken place if it were not for him. It was Mohit Bansal, the man who had for so long been a ghost whose presence I and Anjali had been unable to shake off in our relationship. And now he was right there, in front of my eyes, walking with the very girl that we both loved. He come back to reclaim his love. At the expense of mine. My heart for a moment had stopped breathing. So after all this time, he was back. It almost seemed like he was back from the dead. To rekindle the love Anjali had once felt for him.

For a moment our eyes met and he saw me staring at him in complete disbelief as if he was a ghost who had come back to haunt me for the errors of my past life. As we looked at each other, in that one moment, for the first time I understood what it really meant to be facing the person you hate the most in the world. I had never met him yet I knew that he was the single most person that I hated the most in this world. And with every passing moment, with every bought of laughter that Anjali had in his company, my hatred for him doubled. He continued to look at me for a while as if trying to recognize me and then suddenly he smiled as if he too understood the magnimosity of the moment and then, out of nowhere winked at me. He then gave me a brief smile and weaving his right hand across his hair to clear up his Greek God looks, he put his left around Anjali and continued to walk with her. She didn’t resist him putting his arms around her. Somewhere in my heart I felt like chopping that hand off.

I didn’t wait a second longer. Damn that chocolate tart! I ran back to my bike and without even looking back even once, I started my bike and sped off the curb of Cosmos as if I had never been there. And maybe I had sped off Anjali’s life too. Forever.

The beer tasted like hydrochloric acid. But it didn’t matter anymore. It was the only thing that was keeping me from tipping over the edge and preventing me from losing my mind. With each sip of the beer that I took, that scene flashed in front of me again and again. That hug, that embrace like embracing the person you care most about in this world. His whispering into her ears and she breaking into peals of laughter at every word he said. Their hands touching each other, brushing against each other as if it was their natural position to be intertwined. As if they couldn’t resist from touching each other or holding each other. Then him looking at me as he recognized who I was and what I resembled to him. Him winking at me as if it was a sign of his victory. As if he had beaten me without even playing the game. His hands reaching out and resting against her shoulders as if they had always belonged there and nowhere else.

Across the horizon a bunch of friends played in the sea, splashing water against each other, joyous in their revelry that the exams were still some time away. A couple walked by the sea, touching the wet mud, barefoot, holding hands and their jeans rose to their knees to avoid the oncoming waves. A bunch of young boys chased each other on the beach laughing as they crashed against each other. Another couple sat a few metres away from me, on the dry sand that

led to the sea, whispering into each others ears as if oblivious to the world around them. Each one happy in their own way. Each one unaware that a broken heart sat in their midst, all by himself, jealous of their happiness. 

I continued to sip the beer and watch the waves crash against the shores as if the shore was telling the sea that it could not go any further. That this was where the sea stopped and from here on the shores took over. Malpe beach, incident to so many fantastic mermories of my life, countless fun moments, had never looked so somber and peaceful. There was a calmness about the sea that brought ease to my heart.

“Hey!” I heard a voice from behind me.

I recognized the voice. I could have recognized that voice anywhere, anytime. That voice resembled so many things, so many beautiful moments that to forget it would be a crime. Anjali was here.

I turned to look at her and she was there, standing behind me, smiling like an angel as if telling me that there was nothing to worry about, that she was here to take away all my pain and fill my life with happiness. As if she was telling me that she was that happiness.

She came and sat by my side, dressed in a red tee and blue jeans yet she could have worn a silk gown to this beach and it wouldn’t have looked out of place on her. For a moment there, seeing her like that, all the hurt of the past hour vanished from my heart. “How did you find me?” I asked almost politely completely forgetting about Mohit for a while. 

“I had a hunch you would be here,” she replied smiling at me and then staring across the horizon.

Seeing her smile like that at me, I couldn’t help but smile back. It was so easy to fall in love with her. How could anyone not fall in love with her? And she did care about me. She cared enough about me to come all the way to Malpe beach just to meet me after notcing the missed calls that I had given her while she was meeting Mohit at Cosmos.

“By the way,” she said resting her hand against mine, “why weren’t you picking up your phone?”

“Why weren’t you?” I replied immediately and then it call came back. That scene at Cosmos flashed in front of me again and I remembered how she had told me that she wouldn’t let Mohit be a part of her life again just a few days ago and today…today she had embraced him with open arms, smiling and laughing with him as if nothing had happened at all. And she didn’t have enough faith in me to tell me that she was meeting Mohit either.

“I…,” Anjali hesitated. “I was meeting someone.”

“Aaahaaa,” I replied nonchalantly. ‘I know who that someone was Anjali,’ I wanted to say. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet. I wanted to know why she hadn’t told me about it.

“So was this someone so important that you couldn’t pick up my call?” I asked.

Anjali was looking straight at the sea again. “I wasn’t so sure,” she replied after a while.

“Oh…ok!” I replied. ‘If that’s what you want me to believe Anjali,’ I thought to myself.

For a few minutes after that neither of us spoke. We continued to stare at the sea lost in our thoughts wondering who would ask the next question. Or whether there was a question to be asked at all. Maybe things were really as clear as they had looked in Cosmos, I thought. But then maybe it wasn’t. I hoped it wasn’t.

“Whom had you gone to meet?” I finally asked.

She again took time to reply. She looked at me, unsure if she should answer the question in a completely truthful manner or just by pass the question. “An old friend,” she finally said. By pass she did.

I wondered what to say next. Once again we both sat there in silence, both unsure what to speak next. Or whether to speak at all. A thousand questions occupied my mind but I was afraid the answers might break me completely. I was afraid that I might not be able to take the answers if they came. Yet somehow that fact that she hadn’t told me, not even mentioned it once and even now was hiding it somehow made it seem like she didn’t trust me. Made it seem like a betrayal-or was that too strong a word? Why had she not told me? What possible reason could she have for hiding one of the biggest parts of her life from me? Was she scared that I might not understand? But if she thought that I might not be able to understand her meeting Mohit again, then one thing was clear-she didn’t trust me yet. Not completely. For I could have taken her meeting Mohit. What I couldn’t take was her lying to me about it. 

When it all got too much to bear, I kept looking at the sea and simply said, “I saw you.”

For a moment she didn’t register what I had said. Then she turned towards me and looked me in the eye and she understood. She understood what I meant. She understood why I was sitting alone at Malpe with a bottle of beer in my head. She understood why I hadn’t picked up her calls. In one single moment, our relationship changed forever. And she realized that her act of betrayal had been discovered.

“Oh…ok!” she said looking at me for she didn’t know what else to say.

“Why?” I simply asked without even looking at her.

“Because the past never lets go of you Rahul,” she answered. “How much ever you may want to. But you cannot escape from your past.”

“Does that mean that you jeapordize your present for it?” I asked and she understood what I meant. She understood that I was referring to our relationship and the fact that she had hidden that meeting with Mohit from me.

She looked at me and smiling, she answered, “It was for the sake of not jeapordizing my present or future that I met him Rahul.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Her hands reached out to mine and holding them she said, “I was afraid , Rahul. I was just afraid.”

I didn’t brush her hand away. But I didn’t react in any other way either. I simply looked at her and said, “Afraid of what? That I might not understand you meeting the very man who broke your heart?” My voice had become louder now.

“No,” she said. There was almost a hint of plea in her voice.

“Then afraid of what Anjali?” I said my frustration now clear in my voice.

“Afraid that you might not be able to understand why I couldn’t tell you about this,” she said, her voice clearly showing her remorse.

I brushed her hand away and stood up on the sand, angry that she would dismiss me from something so important in her life just like that. “Isn’t that the same thing?” I asked angrily.

She stayed sitting on the sand, tears forming in her eyes now as if unable to forgive herself for letting things come to this. “No Rahul, it isn’t,” she said grappling at my jeans. “Please try and understand.”

“I am trying to Anjali. I am trying to. I am trying to understand why the girl who I had considered the closest person to me in this entire world would keep me out of something so important. Why just days after she told me that she would never let the man who broke her heart into her life again, she goes and has a secret meeting with him in a restaurant and then doesn’t pick up my call, let alone informing me about it. And you know what Anjali. None of it makes sense. I have sat here for the past 1 hour trying to think why you would do this, but every time all I have got is a blank slate. And it kills me…it kills me to know that what we have shared since that dayat frustration point didn’t mean a thing to you. Didn’t mean a God damn thing to you Anjali…didn’t mean a God damn thing.”

Anjali got up, her eyes wet with tears now as she tried to grab hold of the situation any way she could. I knew I was hurting her. And it killed me to know that but then she had hurt me today and hurt me in a way that no one had ever hurt me before. I wished I could have stopped but I couldn’t. 

She reached out to me, resting her hand on mine again trying to make reason with me, tears flowing out of her eyes. “Rahul…how do you I tell you that we have shared…that every moment that I have spent in your company, every little memory with you…it means…it means the world to me.” She was crying now-looking for me to support her like I had done before. Looking up at me to stop her from crying as I had done every time she had cried in front of me. “And I am really sorry that I didn’t tell you about this Rahul. But please try and understand that I couldn’t. Please Rahul…please…I just couldn’t tell you…not today…please…” the words got lost in the flow of the tears as she looked at me with pleading eyes to try and understand. I wanted to hold her, to hug her, to tell her that I loved her. But she had betrayed me. Betrayed my trust. And I wasn’t going to forgive her so easily for that.

“I am trying to Anjali. I am really trying to,” I said as she continued to cry. “But you hurt me today. You hurt me like no one else had ever hurt me before…” I choked as I now felt the tear in my eyes as I said this. “Seeing you like that. Seeing you hug him…seeing you laugh with him as if you didn’t care about anything else when you were with him…seeing his hand on your shoulders as if he meant the world to you… you know how it felt? It felt like someone was piercing a knife into my heart. And then I realized that the person who was holding that knife was no one else but you. The girl who meant everything to me…the girl for whom I would have done anything in this world…the girl who I…the girl who I…” the words got unbearable after a while. I somehow couldn’t bring myself to utter that last word. And ‘loved’, the word that I couldn’t bring myself to speak hung between us like a double edged sword.

...

Anjali waited for me to complete the sentence. She waited for me to finally say it even if it is while she was crying. But when I didn’t her eyes simpered and showed the hurt that she was feeling. “The girl you what Rahul?” she asked coming towards me. “The girl you what?” I didn’t answer but just kept looking at her. She kept her hands on mine and holding them, looking at me with pleading eyes said, “Rahul…if there’s something you want to tell me…if there’s something that that you need to tell me, then please Rahul…please say it now. Please Rahul…just tell me.”

I looked at the girl standing in front of me. The girl who I had loved so much only to realize that for some reason she had decided to keep the biggest parts of her life away from me. “Tell you what?” I said impassionately.

“Rahul…” she said pleading. “Please…you know it. I know it. So just tell me. Just this once…tell what you really feel. Please don’t hide it any longer Rahul. I beg you…please…just tell me.”

I continued to look at her with a straight face though inside it was taking all my effort to stop myself from holding her and telling her what exactly she wanted to know. I couldn’t tell her. Not after this. “If you know it,” I said as with an as emotionless voice as possible, “then why don’t you just tell me yourself?”

“Rahul…” she said pleading again, tears forming in her eyes once more. “Please…don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” I asked.

“Hide what you really feel,” she said.

“Well-maybe if you hadn’t hidden something from me, then I wouldn’t have to hide anything from you either,” I replied as sarcastically as possible.

“Rahul…I am really sorry for not telling you. I really am,” she was crying again. “But can you please forgive me for this? Please Rahul…if there’s something you have to say…then please say it now. Before it’s too late.” 

I made one last effort to hide any emotion from my voice and looking straight at her said, “I think we both have already said what needed to be said. I don’t have anything more to say to you. I am really sorry if I hurt you but I have realized that it’s best if some things are left unspoken.”

She stared at me with wide eyes as if unable to believe the words that I had just said. As if someone had once again broken her heart into a million pieces. I looked towards the sea dispassionately. Without any emotion. Or remorse. “I need to go now. Do you want me to drop you to your hostel?”

She continued staring at me in disbelief. “No,” she finally answered. “I think I’ll stay a while.”

“Your choice,” I answered simply. “Anyways. I am going now. Take care of yourself Anjali. And have a happy life.”

I turned and started walking towards my bike. “So that’s it?” I heard Anjali say as I was walking away from her. I stopped to look at her. “This is how you walk away from my life?” she asked. “By wishing me a happy life? And never even look back Rahul? Is this how you are going to say farewell to me? After everything that we have shared, after all the moments we have spend together you are just going to wish me a happy life and walk away? This is where you end our journey? Leaving me alone mid way through a journey that we started together? Answer me Rahul Agrawal…are you just going to simply walk away from my life without even looking back?”

For a moment I thought if I could really answer her question. Or whether I even had the strength to answer her question. Then remembering the poignancy of the moment, I mustered up my last bit of courage and answered her, “I didn’t choose to walk away from your life Anjali. It was you who made that deceision.”

And then I was gone.

********************* 

I walked into DT about an hour later and could immediately feel the effect of the loud music playing from the speakers on my ears. The invisible DJ was playing, ‘Its My Life’ by Bon Jovi to a thunderous response as almost everyone in DT was singing along with Bon Jovi while getting them selves drunk. I walked past the dining tables that were set up neatly in a row and spotted Virat sitting at the bar with a drink in his hand and high spirits. I went over and saw that he was joined by Rishabh and Aarav. All three were nearly drunk and clearly enjoying it. They too had joined the chorus and were singing, “My life is like a broken Highway,” at the top of their voices along with Bon Jovi while swinging their drinks atop their heads. I looked at the man serving the drinks and simply said, “Vodka! Smirnoff! 120 ml! Neat!”

“Rahhhuuulll?” I heard Virat’s voice drawl out as he finally registered that it was me standing beside him once Bon Jovi had taken a break.

“Yeah,” I said as I looked at him. “It’s me.”

“Rahuuuulllll,” Virat said again. He then flung his hands on my shoulders and drawled out, “Rahuuullllll….my baaaassssttt friiiieeeennndddddd.” 

He then turned towards Aarav and Rishabh and continuing in his drunken stupor he said, “Guys…guys…meet Rahul. He’s my baaaassstttttttttt friiiiiieeeennnnddd.”

“Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhh,” Rishabh and Aarav responded in unison. ‘Jeez!’ I thought to myself. I was in no mood to put up with an act like this. How long did it take for the darn bar tender to make the drinks? Had he ordered the vodka from Russia or something?

To while away the time and ignore Virat and his drunken buddies I took out a Marlboro Red from my pocket and lit it unabashedly. Virat almost splurred his drinks on himself. “Jesus!” Virat said looking at the cigarette whose smoke I was inhaling in. “I thought you quit smoking.”

“Yeah-well…I started again,” I responded coolly as I took in another puff. “But why?” Virat asked now acting as if he wasn’t drunk at all, probably the sight of seeing me smoke acting like a stimulant which brough him back to sanity.

“Shit happens,” I responded again preferring not to say another word. 

Aarav and Rishabh too had been shaken out of their drunken stupor. The drink arrived.

“Ummm…” Aarav pointed out. “Not meaning any harm but that vodka looks neat.”

“It is,” I responded removing the straw from the glass. This was no time for straws. The vodka was going in at one go.

“Jesus! A cigarette in your hand and 120 ml vodka as your starting point and that too neat. Whats up?” Virat asked eyeing me curiosly.

“As I said shit happens!” I replied. “I just felt the need to have a smoke and get drunk. So that’s what I am doing.”

And with that I took in the last puff of the Marlboro, stashed it in the ashtray, raised the glass of Vodka in my hand and taking a long look at the drink I remembered Anjali hugging Mohit in that emotional embrace and gulped down the drink in one single go while Virat, Rishabh and Aarav stared at me open mouthed, as if watcing me get drunk got them out of their drunken states.

After finishing the glass I put it down and signaled to the bar tender to make the same drink again. “Girls are such bitches anyways,” I finally said as I lit another cigaratted.

“I would drink to that,” Aarav said raising his empty glass and signaling to the bar tender to get another drink for him.

“What happened?” Virat said looking at me now completely sober.

“Fuck it! You don’t want to know,” I said as I offered the packet of Marlboros around the table. Virat and Rishabh simply shook their hands while Aarav digged his hands into the packed and stuck out a cigarette. I helped him light it up and he thanked me by raising his glass of vodka which had arrived. So had mine.

“Something happened with Anjali, didn’t it?” Virat said as Rishabh listened on intently, more interested in the conversation between me and Virat than the drinks.

I looked at the glass of vodka in front of me. I was nowhere near getting drunk. I had a huge capacity when it came to drinks as most of my friends knew and could gulp down a litre at a time if necessary. You had to get me to 300 ml before thinking of getting me drunk.

Don’t wanna talk about it dude,” I said. Then raising the glass in my hand I grinned at Virat and said, “Atleast wait till I get drunk.” And with that another 120 ml went in.

With 2 more 120’s I was drunk as drunk could be. And with that I bawled out everything that had happened since I had left Virat and Sheetal in CCD to Virat, Rishabh and Aarav. All 3 of them looked on as if they couldn’t really believe that so much could happen in a span of few hours.

“Jeez-that much of drama should be planned out in a span of few days’, man,” Aarav commented.

“Girls have a habit of giving us happiness for weeks, months and maybe years but it takes them just a day to screw it all up,” I said.

“Ouch!” Virat said looking at me. “Those are the words of a bitter bitter man!”

“Or one who just had his heart broken by his supposed ‘one true love’,” Rishabh pointed out.

“True love?” Aarav said looking at Rishabh. “That’s another load of crap.”

“Why? Don’t you believe in love?” Rishabh asked. We were all drunk now so none of us was really sure if the other person was being genine or not. Or if we would even remember this conversation by tomoroow morning.

“When did I say that I don’t believe in love?” Aarav answered Rishabh. “I said I don’t believe in true love.’”

He laid a special emphasis on the word ‘true.’

“And what does that mean? That love’s not true?” Virat asked.

“It means you fall in love and you fall out of love,” Aarav started explaining. “Not every relationship is going to work but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t love. Ultimately and finally you find some one who you really are compatible with, with whom the petty arguments don’t nag you so much anymore and who you think you can withstand for the rest of your life and hence she becomes your wife.”

“So isn’t that what true love is? Finding the one person with whom you can spend the rest of your life with

Despite Virat’s warning, we all turned at once towards the DT entrance and saw, in the darkness lit up only by the DJ’s music system light, a tall, slim figure wearing tight tees, blue jeans and what looked the outlines of a black biker jacket, with a helmet of his bike in one hand and brushing his hair with the other as if the wind had spoilt its perfection and walking straight towards the bar…MOHIT BANSAL!!

“Whiskey! Red label,” were the first words I heard Mohit Bansal utter as he seated himself at the bar. I had a strong urge to punch him in the face right then and there. That would definitely make me feel a lot better. But I somehow held back.

The whiskey arrived and much to my chagrin, it wasn’t poisoned. Maybe I could have asked the bar tender to mix something when he was making the drink. Oppurtunity missed. I continued to stare at the man I hated the most in this world and wondered if it was really possible to hate some one so much. I hated him more than I hated any of my ex-girlfriends and for me nothing would have given me greater satisfaction than to watch his head explode into smitherins. I imagined the sight of it and a grin crept over my face. Maybe there was someone outside the door waiting with a magnum sniper to shoot him in the head. He would be drinking his whisky, happily thinking that he had managed to steal Anjali back from me and BANG! A small hole would form in the centre of his forehead and just like that he would drop down dead. Ahhh-such happy thought

“You looking for something?” I heard a voice disturb my tranquility. Mohit Bansal was staring straight at me as if looking for an answer. I was drunk and seeing him look at me as if I had offended in some sort of way pissed me off a lot more that it would have when I wasn’t drunk. Alcohol rocks. If this guy wanted a piece of me today, then he was gonna get it and get it real bad. I knew all he had asked was if I wanted something but to me that was equivalent to blowing the horn for the start of a war. BRING IT ON!!

Rishabh, Aarav and Virat were staring at me intently waiting for my response. They knew I was a volcano about to explode. But unlike me they realized that if I exploded today, I was more likely to harm myself.

“Yeah,” I finally responded though I hadn’t though of what exactly I had wanted. Anything to get under his skin would do. “I am looking for the jerk that breaks girls’ hearts and tramps all over it like it were some piece of trash. Some one told me he looks like you.”

“Well, I think I know the jerk you are talking about,” Mohit responded calmly. Ok-so my attack didn’t surprise him. Round 1 to Mohit. Damn!

“Yeah…who is he?” I asked getting all angry as if I was a black man looking for a fight in America.

“Just look in the mirror dude,” Mohit said calmly, stirring his glass of whiskey.

Shit! He was actually right. But how did he know me? Aaarrghhh! This wasn’t the time for introductions. I had to fight him, I had to punch him. I had to have a reason to ill him tonight. So I walked two steps towards him as if I was enterin the war zone now and looking straight into his eye I said, “What! What did you just say now?”

Virat came up a little behind me and whispered into his ears, “Dude…I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

I didn’t look back at Virat. I just brought up my hand in a sign of defiance and said, “you stay out of this Virat” as if I was some sort of gang leader. I wasn’t.

Then I looked straight at Mohit Bansal again and drew upto my full height to let him know that it wouldn’t be such a good idea to draw swords with me today. Mohit didn’t even look upto me and simply responded, “Rahul Agarwal right?”

I didn’t reply. You don’t reply to your enemy’s questions unless they are provocative when you are looking for a fight. Mohit continued without waiting for my answer. “As far as I know, you walk with the reputation for breaking hearts of girls here dude. So if you are looking for yourself, then I suggest you find a mirror. And just to clear things up-you look nothing like me.”

There was a bit of a guffaw from the people around us now. A crowd had gathered watching the showdown between two lovers of the same girl. A few of the people whispered to their friends asking for the back story and those who knew were too happy to oblige. I was too drunk to care. Virat, Rishabh and Aarav came up behind me again and said, “Dude. You are drunk. Don’t get into this fight-please. We’ll get him some other time!”

“NO!” I said sternly. “I get this son of a bitch tonight. He thinks he can just walk into anyone’s lives and steal their biggest source of happiness from them. No-he ain’t leaving DT alive today.”

“Whose happiness are we exactly talking about here?” Mohit asked.

“Mine you son of a bitch,” I responded now more angry than ever. Somewhere the hurt was coming back too.

“Ahhh…I thought so,” Mohit said. “But you see, I never intended to enter your life Rahul…”

Saying that the man I hated the most in this world ran towards me. I expected him to try and punch me but to see him running towards took me by surprise and he tackled me rugby style and we both crash landed on one of the stools. The stool broke with a thud. As I tried to get up I felt a punch on my right cheek and I fell down again. Mohit came with another punch but this time before he could land the blow I kicked him in the stomach and he fell backwards on one of the guys. I got up, still feeling the effect of his punch on my cheek and went straight towards him hoping to tear his limb. As he was getting up, I lined him up properly and then punched him in the stomach. He caught his stomach and yelped in pain but before he could feel the effect of that punch I elbowed him in the face and his hands went scurrying to catch his nose again and he fell back on the floor. I went towards him again as he was still rolling on the floor and kicked him in the stomach. He yelped in pai again and that to me was better than Beethoven’s 5th symphony. I went to kick him again but this time he caught my foot with his hands. I tried to exert the force of my foot on my hand but he kept holding my foot and then with one final lunge he pushed me back and I went tumbling to the floor.

As I was getting up and recovering from the fall, Mohit once again tackled and this time we fell on another stool, breaking it once again. My back was now feeling sore due to the two tackles he had on me and I had a hard time getting up. But as soon as I get up I felt an elbow on my nose and I knew it was bleeding. He then came towards me again and before I could react I felt another punch-this time on my left cheek. I tried to punch back but as soon as I drew my hand to punch him, he caught it and then bending it he punched me in the face again before tackling me with his leg and I fell back to the floor with a thud. I knew I was loosing the fight now and my shirt was covered with blood. I was drunk and bleeding and another punch would knock me out. I could stay down here and act as if I had fainted and it would have saved me but I didn’t want to. I felt as if all this was my punishment for leaving Anjali stranded on that beach today. As I gathered myself to get up one last time, to face Mohit Bansal, the man who had defeated me in the race to win Anjali’s heart and who was now about to defeat me in a physical fight as well, all I could see was the face of that angel who had entered my life, who had made me finally realize what love was, who had made me fall in love with the idea of falling in love and who I had left stranded on a beach because perhaps I loved my ego more than I loved her. Maybe Mohit did deserve her more than I did. Maybe he loved her more than I did. Maybe he understood her better than I did. Maybe she indeed would be happier with him than she could be happier with me.

But even as these thoughts flashed across my mind, the only thing that really mattered to me was the simple fact that I loved her. I loved her more than I could ever love anyone else. And the fact that I left her alone there, all by herself, breaking her heart and making her cry when I had promised her that I would never make her cry, that even if she cried, I would be the one to make her smile again and yet I had done exactly what I had promised myself not to-to be the reason for her tears. To be the reason for her to feel an empty void around her. To be the reason why she would have a broken heart all over again. I had turned into a murdered today at that beach. I had murdered my own love.

I didn’t even notice the last punch as it landed on me. All I remembered was a fist on my left cheek and then I found myself falling into empty space, as if there was no end to this fall, as if I had finally over come gravity and then there was nothing. Just Anjali and me. And the open sky.

*******************

I didn’t even notice the last punch as it landed on me. All I remembered was a fist on my left cheek and then I found myself falling into empty space, as if there was no end to this fall, as if I had finally over come gravity and then there was nothing. Just Anjali and me. And the open sky.

*******************

There are hang overs, there are bad over hang overs and then there is this. Where you feel like your head is about to explode, where you can’t make heads or tails of where you are and your body feels like it’s been rammed into a pole a thousand times. Oh wait. Maybe my body wasn’t rammed into a pole a thousand times but it definitley was rammed like into a table. And that too twice. No wonder my body felt like it could do away with every part it had.

I woke up trying to locate my surroundings as if I was an amnesiac and didn’t remember anything from my past life. Yeah-that’s what happens when you drink too much and then end up on the wrong side of a beating. Finally-after a few minutes of struggling to actually even see where I was I finally made the realization that I was lying on a sofa. That of corse didn’t help much. Because I had no idea how I landed up on a sofa. As last night’s incidents came back to me-I got even more confused. I was supposed to be lying either in a hospital bed or in my room-wasted. Not on a comfortable sofa. I looked around to make sure that I really was where I was. In front of me I saw a 21 inch TV neatly lined up in the TV case and a digital tv decoder underneath it. Sweet. There was a balcony next to the TV and the door to the balcony was open…the view opening to the main road below and beyond that the breath taking sight of the valleys. Even the sea was visible from the Balcony.

That was enough to tell me where I was. I was in Shambhavi palace. One of the many apartment buildings that students rented once they were tired of their hostel life. There was a bean-bag right in front of the TV meaning who ever lived here sure had a good life. The dining table was in the other end of the hall which led to the kitchen. Left of the dining hall were the two bedrooms, facing each other.

I tried to get up from the sofa but my body screamed in paind and I had to lie down again. I was damn thirst and the water bottle was on the dining table. I tried to get up once again but my shoulders squealed once again. My entire body was sore. “Stay down,” I heard a voice. I treid to look at the person who had just uttered those words but everything was still a bit hazy. Finally, after struggling a bit, the guy finally came into focus. And to me this was the biggest shock I could ever have received. Standing in front of me was Mohit Bansal.

“You?” I managed to say despite the pain that my body felt.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ummm…I live here,” he answered.

“What?” I managed to muster. I felt my whole body shiver. I was in Mohit Bansal’s flat? The man who stole the girl I loved from me and knocked me out in a fight yesterday. I was in my sworn enemy’s house? Damn-if my body allowed me I could kill him right here and right now. I started at him, loathing him from the lowest depths of my heart and wishing he would just exploade right now in front of me.

“I know,” he said after both of us hadn’t said anything for a while.

“Know what?” I asked spitting as much bitterness as possible.

“That you wish you could kill me right now,” he said smiling.

“Wow!” I answered as sarcastically as possible. “You really are Einstein, ain’t you?”

“Save the bitterness!” Mohit said. “You really are not in much of a position to have another fight with me after what happened last night.”

He was right. And I hated him for being right. I hated every just seeing him in front of me. “I hope you die a painful death,” I said not mincing any words.

“I know,” he said smiling again. “You like scotch?”

“What?” I said in shock again.

“Do you like scotch?” Mohit repeated his words.

“Yeah…I guess,” I replied hesitantly.

“Good!” Mohit said and suddenly waled towards a small cabinet in front of the dining table. The wall had a small spacing in it and the spacing was basically designed in such a manner that it could serve as a Pooja place with a big cabinet in the centre for the placing of the deity and the remaining small cabinets for the other small requirements that a prayer place needed. But instead of a deity in the centre cabinet, neatly arranged were bottles of alcohol. Scotch, whisky, vodka-they were all there and the small cabinets carried the glasses. They guy had turned a place for worship into a bar. While my loathing for him increased, I couldn’t help but begrudge him for that bar.

It looked spectacular with its neatly arranged bottles of alcohol in various forms.

Mohit picked up a scotch bottle and two glasses from the adjoining cabinet. “You gotta be kidding me,” I said in shock.

“What?” Mohit asked.

“Scotch at 8 in the morning?” I said revering to the clock.

“Yeah…so?” Mohit said as if the entire world opened their mornings by drinking a glass of scotch.

“JESUS! What are you…a complete drunk?” I asked in anger.

“No,” he said simply and started pouring the scotch into the glasses. “Just a guy who likes to drink when he wants to drink rather than follow a supposed time-table.”

I looked astonishgingly as he poured the scotch. There was something seriously wrong with this guy. And how on earth could Anjali for a guy like him? Fall in love with a guy who turns a temple into a bar and drinks at 8 in the morning.

“Neat or soda?” he asked almost matter of factly.

“You really are serious about this…ain’t you?” I asked still astonished looking at the drinks in his hand.

“I wouldn’t be holding these 2 glasses otherwise, would I?” he replied. “Neat or soda?” he asked again.

“Soda,” I replied finally when I realized I couldn’t resist the temptation of a drink.

“Alright,” he said as he placed the glasses on the table and went into the kitched to fetch a bottle of soda. I heard him rumbling through his fridge. “Ice?” he asked after a while.

“Wouldn’t mind,” I replied holding my jaw which was still reeling from the punch that Mohit had landed on my face.

He brought a glass of soda and a box of ice cubes and placed them on the table. Slowly he started filling the glasses with soda and when he had finally decided on the amount of soda required for the drink, he broke the ice cubes from the box and dropped them intothe glass. And just like that, at 8 in the morning, a scotch drink was ready.

He came over to my sofa and handed me one glass. Then he went and sat on the beanbag holding his glass of scotch.

Despite the completely shocking hospitality, I still loathed the guy. And still wondered why I was brought here.

“Why did you bring me here?” I finally asked as I took a sip of the scotch.

“Because you were unconscious and wasted,” he replied simply.

“And my friends?” I asked.

“They were hardly in a position to carry themselves leave alone you. And I didn’t want to take you to a hospital because the cuts you have might increase the curiosity of the doctor and the last thing either of us want is a police case.”

I tried to think of ways I could argue against him. To accuse him in some way of bringing me to his flat while there was another possible alternative possible. I couldn’t.

So instead I concentrated on my drink and tried to savour it as much as possible. I didn’t speak a word as I drank the scotch and once I was finished, I placed it on the glass table in front of the sofa.

Mohit finished the drink a few seconds after I did and collected mine and his glass and took them back to the kitchen.

“Well,” he announced as he came back from the kitchen, “now that we have got ourselves refreshed, think it’s time to stitch you up a bit.”

“What do you mean?” I asked baffled. Was he going to have another go at me?? Had the jerk brought me here so he could beat me up again?

“Your cuts,” he said pointing at my cheek. “They are quite deep. So you are going to need a little bit of first aid.”

I touched my cheek and found a deep gash formed across it which immediately hurt as I touched it. I immediately squealed a bit in pain.

“Remembered it now, did you?” Mohit said laughing.

“Keep your mouth shut unless you want another one yourself,” I said angrily.

Mohit didn’t say anything at all and quietly went into his room. He came out a few minutes later with a first aid box.

“Neat,” I said looking at the box. “After beating me up, you stitch me up. Quite the good Samaritan ain’t you?”

“Just trying to help Rahul, just trying to help.”

“Yeah-you might as well,” I said my voice getting a bit louder now. “You already got the girl anyways-you got nothing to be bitter about.”

Mohit once again choose not to respond. He simply smiled and started opening the first aid box. What was with this guy? Why wasn’t he responding to any of my freaking provocations? I was in his bloody house and my body hurtin so badly that I could hardly move. He could easily punch me again if he wanted. But he simply chooses to ignore me. If only I could gather enough strength to punch him once, I swear to God, I wouldn’t ask for anything more.

He took out a small piece of cotton and a bottle of lotion from his first aid kid. Dipping just a little bit of the lotion into the cotton, he started to bring his hand towards my cut to apply the lotion. But as soon as he was about to touch my wound with the cotton, I flayed my hands across and pushed his hand away. The reaction took him by surprise and he dropped the piece of cotton on the sofa.

“Don’t!” I told him simply glaring at him.

“Look!” Mohit said picking up the cotton piece again. “I know you don’t like me but you have to keep your personal differences with me aside here. I am just trying to help.”

“Then why didn’t you take me to a hospital?” I replied coldly.

“It could land you in trouble,” he said.

“Or maybe it could land you in trouble,” I said hating him even more.

“Believe me Rahul,” he said in an almost patronizing tone, “you would fall in a lot more trouble than I would if yesterday’s incident is revisited.”

I so wanted to disagree and tell him that he was wrong. But I couldn’t. He was right. And I hated him for it. Watching me and realizing that I had nothing to say, he once again took out a cotton ball and dabbling it in the lotion, brought it upto my cheek. This time I held him by his wrist.

“Don’t think that just because you have been nice to me, I am going to forgive you for what you did,” I said looking him square in the eye.

“I don’t expect any sort of forgiveness Rahul,” he said. “In fact I knew it wasn’t the best idea to bring you here seeing as you hate me, but in the circumstances, I didn’t have any other choice. And I am just trying to help here.”

“I don’t need your help,” I said and taking the piece of cotton from him, flung it across the hall. Just then the main door of the flat opened and a girl dressed in a red top and blue denims walked in, her hair held by a clip and a small bag in her hand. Anjali was here.

“I don’t need your help,” I said and taking the piece of cotton from him, flung it across the hall. Just then the main door of the flat opened and a girl dressed in a red top and blue denims walked in, her haird held by a clip and a small bag in her hand. Anjali was here.

She walked in like a breeze blowing in the air, calming everyone’s mind and giving a sense of peace to all those who could fee her presense. The sunlight seemed to be more radiant as she entered the room; the birds seemed to be chirping all of a sudden and everything, almost everything in the room just held still to feel her presence. For a moment I forgot where I was or with whom or for that matter the incidents of the previous day-which in itself could be turned into a story-but for a moment I forgot all that as she entered the room, in her red top and left me feeling as if there would be nothing better than for the time to stand still now and let me stare at her forever like this, the door slightly ajar and her face of ethereal beauty just looking to see if anyone was there.

Then reality sunk in. As she entered the room and looked astonished at the sight in front of her, me and Mohit in the same room and on the same sofa-glaring at each other like we were about to go to war, her expression of utter surprise could be execused. In that moment I almost forgot my own set of questions. Or that I had just left her stranded on a beach yesterday evening after breaking her heart. Anjali looked utterly bewildered and shocked by this new development and I almost rushed to explain to her what a scumbag Mohit was. But then my body coiled up in pain and I couldn’t make a move.

“What’s going on here?” Anjali said looking as if she had just seen Mr India and Mogambo shake hands and call it a truce. I being Mr India of corse. Because Mohit Bansal was nothing but the Mogambo of my life. Son of a bitch!

“Nothing,” Mohit answered before I could say anything. “Me friend Rahul here was in an accident yesterday night and now he is resisting me helping him with the first aid.”

“Oh…ok!” Anjali replied. “I was sleeping when you called me yesterday. Read your sms today morning and came as soon as I could. You had me really worried.”

“I know,” Mohit said. “Sorry for that. But I am alright. I called you because I thought you could help with Rahul. His cuts are a bit more serious than mine.”

And as Mohit said that, Anjali for the first time since entering the house looked clearly at me. She had seen me while entering and our eyes had met but as soon as they did, she had looked away to avoid any sort of eye contact with me. I didn’t blame her. But this time as she looked at me, I caught her eye again, a grim expression on my face only a sign of the remorse I felt for what had happened yesterday evening. As she saw my wounds, a tear dropped from her eyes. Many more would have fell but I didn’t deserve them anymore. All I deserved was her ignorance.

I was hurt yesterday night but was I hurt anywhere close to how much I had hurt her? No, I hadn’t. I had done everything that I had promised I wouldn’t and if right now she were to tell Mohit that she couldn’t help me, if she choose to walk out, then it will be the least of what I deserved. And somewhere in my heart I wished she would. I wished she would walk out and leave me alone for I felt I had to be punished. I felt I had to pay for what I had done. For letting go of the only girl who truly understood me, who had managed to get throught the barrier and finally made me realized what love realize, I deserved nothing but pain. And pain much worse that that of beng tackled through a table or being kicked in the stomach or punched in the nose. I deserved to be walked out on. I deserved to be hurt.

Yet, as we started at each other, with every passing moment bringing more sadness to her face, she simply said to Mohit, “Get some lukewarm water.” Mohit, who had just stood still while he saw me and Anjali share a look, went silently into the kitchen to do what Anjali had asked her to. A love triangle couldn’t have played out in a more unexpected way.

She slowly came over to me and placing her bag on the table, she say next to me. She didn’t say a word for words would have been too awkward right now. She just slowly opened the first aid box and examined it. Then she looked at my wounds and once again went searching in the first aid box. She found the packets of cotton and opening it she took out a single cotton ball. She slowly dabbled it in a lotion as Mohit had done and brought it up to my cheek where the cut was formed. I didn’t resist this time. I let her touch my wound with the cotton but as soon as she did, I felt as if salt had been rubbed into the wound and squealched in pain. “Sssshhhh!” she said.

“It hurts,” I replied trying to withdraw myself from the cotton in her hand.

“I know!” she replied holding the cotton again. “But that’s the way it goes. Now keep quiet.”

I looked at her, at the way she was scolding me and I couldn’t help but smile. As she brought up the cotton to my cheek again, she looked at me and realized that I was smiling at her. “What are you smiling about?” she asked staring at me.

I immediately withdrew my gaze from her and looked down. “Nothing,” I replied almost blushing. As Anjali applied the lotion, this time it didn’t seem to hurt so much and as I looked up again, I saw her smiling at the way I had withdrew my gaze from her and looked down. I wished to God that that smile would stay there on her face forever. Even if I might not be the reason for it.

Mohit brought the hot water a few minutes later and placed it on the table next to the sofa. “There,” he announced as he came into the hall.

“Thanks Mohit!” Anjali answered ever so sweetly.