sonu kumar
Posted On: 09-04-2019
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Half Girlfriend

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Eight

I took two buses to get to Aurangzeb Road. I couldn’t find any
regular houses there, only massive mansions. Each building looked
like an institution, not someone’s private home.
'100, Aurangzeb Road.’ I saw the sign etched in gold on a black
granite plaque. Concealed yellow lights lit up a nameplate, which
merely stated ‘Somani’. I had borrowed Shailesh’s blazer and shirt. I
adjusted my clothes.
Evenings in October had started to turn chilly. I approached the
guard.
‘What’s your name?’ the guard said in a Bihari accent. He held an
intercom phone in his right hand.
‘Madhav, Madhav Jha. I am Riya’s friend.’
The guard eyed me up and down. He spoke into the intercom.
‘Riya madam’s friend. Shall I send him in?’
The guard paused. He looked at me.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Wait. They will respond and approve.’
‘Isn’t there a party?’
‘Yes, in the back garden.The maid has gone to check.’
In college I underwent no layers of security to meet Riya. I felt
awkward standing and waiting so I made conversation with the guard.
‘Are you from Bihar?’ I said.
‘Yes, from Munger.You?’
‘Dumraon.’
‘And you are Riya madam’s friend?’ he said. I heard the
condescension in his voice. A low-class can smell another low-class.
‘Same college,’ I said. The guard gave me an approving nod. He
could now understand how Riya could be friends with me.
The intercom rang.
‘Go,’ the guard said to me, as if he had received clearance from air
traffic control.I stepped inside. A maid gestured for me to follow her. Five
expensive cars—an Audi SUV, two Mercedes Benz, one Bentley and
Riya’s BMW—-were parked in the compound.
I entered the house, and found myself in a large living room with a
shiny white marble floor. Glittering chandeliers hung from the fifteen-
foot high ceiling. Three sofa sets, upholstered in expensive silk, were
atranged in a U-shaped configuration. A teak and glass coffee table
occupied the middle of the room. This is what a real palace would
look like if royals actually had any money. I thought of my haveli, with
its peeling walls and cracked floors. Forget chandeliers, we felt lucky
if we had less than five-hour power cuts.
Suddenly, in this lap of luxury, I felt lonely. I missed home, my
hostel room and my mother, all at the same time. It is funny how class
works. The moment you are placed in a higher one, a part of you feels
terrified and alone.
‘Come this way,’ the maid said as she saw me stand still.
We reached the back garden. Loud music and a waft of cool breeze
greeted me. I saw the manicured, basketball-court-sized garden lit up
with small fairy lights. White-gloved servers manned a buffet and bar
counter. In the right corner, water shimmered in a small swimming
pool. Most of tile eighty-odd guests had gathered around the pool.
Everyone was dressed as if they had just participated in a fashion
show.
People chatted in small groups. Everyone seemed extremely happy.
I looked around for the tall girl who bad invited me. However, this
party had several tall girls, a lot of them on account of their three-inch
heels.
‘Hey, Madhav!’ I heard her voice.
I squinted to find Riya waving at me from a distance. She walked
towards me. She wore a wine-coloured dress which ended six inches
above her knees. She had applied light make-up. Her face looked even
prettier than it did every day. She wore dangling diamond-and-white
gold earrings, with a matching necklace and bracelet. She had dark redlipstick on, making her lips appear fuller than usual. I couldn't believe
I had kissed these same lips a week ago.
She hugged me like she always did. It felt odd to embrace in front
of so many people.
‘Why so late?’ she said.
‘Took a while to figure out the bus routes.’
‘I told you I would send the car. You and your ego hassles’ she
said. ‘Anyway, come.’
She held my wrist and pulled me towards the crowd. We walked
towards the pool where her friends stood.
‘Garima, Ayesha and Rachita.You know them, right?’ Riya said.
‘Yes, from the cafe.’
‘Of course,’ Ayesha said. She brushed her hair away from her
forehead.The three girls wore expensive dresses and giggled at regular
intervals for no apparent reason. Riya introduced me to another girl in
a black dress.
‘This is Yamini. We were best friends in Modern School,’ Riya
said, hugging Yamini.
‘We were. I hear you are the best friend now, my competition,’ said
Yamini, blowing a curly fringe out of her eyes.
‘Shoo, Yamini,’ Riya said and turned to me. ‘She’s teasing you.
Both of you are my buddies.’
I hated that word—buddies. Buddies felt like a pair of stuffed toys
placed next to each other, with no romantic spark whatsoever. I had
thought after our first kiss that Riya would be more open about us.
I handed over a present to Riya.
‘Oh, thank you,’ she said.‘But my birthday isn’t until next month.’
She opened the present without asking me.
‘What is it?’ she said as she fingered the fabric inside, trying to
make sense of it.
‘It’s a shawl,’ I said. I didn’t have much money to afford a big gift.
With winter coining, I thought this would be a nice present. Besides, it
was within my budget of five hundred bucks.‘So thoughtful. This will keep me warm.’ Riya said with a big
smile on her face.
'I hear you play good basketball. Can you beat her?’Yammi said.
‘I try,' I said.
‘He’s being modest. He plays state level. Going to be college
captain soon.’
‘Handsome college captain,’ Yamini chuckled.
A waiter brought over a tray of snacks.
‘What’s that?' I said.
‘Sushi,’ the waiter said.
I had never heard that word before. I looked puzzled,
'It’s fish on rice.’ Yamini said.
I extended my hand to pick up a piece.
‘Raw fish,’ Riya said.
‘What?’ I said and recoiled from the tray.
The girls burst into laughter,
‘It’s okay, Japanese food. Even I don’t eat it,’ Riva said.
‘Your family is vegetarian, right?’ I said.
‘Yes, but our guests are not. It’s for them. Come, let me introduce
you to some people.’ Riya grabbed my arm.
‘Hey, Riya, one second,’ Ayesha called from behind.
Riya excused herself and went back. I saw the five girls chat with
each other in an animated manner. At one point, everyone apart from
Riya laughed; she didn't seem to find the joke as funny as the others.
'Sorry,’ Riya said as she rejoined me.‘Are you having a good time?’
‘Fancy house you have,’ I said as we walked to the other end of the
garden.
‘My dad’s and uncles’ house, you mean.’
‘Still, great place.’
‘Thanks,’she said.‘Are you having a good time?’
'I'm with you.That’s how I define a good time.’
She smacked my back with her hand and smiled.
‘So, who am I meeting?’ I said.‘Dad, Mom and some of their friends.’
‘Dad and Mom?’ I said.
Every guy has a fear of meeting his girl’s parents. Apparently, there
is a scientific term for it—soceraphobia.
We reached the bar. A distinguished-looking couple in their early
fifties stood with guests.
Riya’s parents held a glass of champagne each. They looked like
those people in the Titan watch ads. They wore well-ironed clothes
with immaculate accessories. Everything they had on was designer,
including their smiles. Riya’s father wore a black bandhgala and gold-
rimmed glasses. Riya's mother wore a gold coloured silk saree.
‘Riya, there you are,’ Mr Somani said. He put his arm around his
daughter. ‘Rohan’s been asking for you.’
Riya extracted herself from her father’s embrace and moved aside
one step.
‘Hi, Rohan,’ she said. ‘When did you arrive?’
Rohan was a handsome man in his mid-twenties with gelled hair.
He wore a black formal suit.
‘Two minutes ago.The parlour took so bloody long to finish my
facial,’ Rohan said with a heavy British accent.
Rohan Chandak, I learnt, had come from London three days ago.
He and his mother were staying at Riya’s house for the duration of
their one-week trip. The Chandaks and the Somanis both hailed from
Jaipur, family friends for three generations. The Chandaks had a
hospitality business in London. I presumed, like the Somanis, they
were rich.
‘Never mind, young man,’ Riya’s father said and patted Rohan’s
back. ‘We are so proud of you, beta.'
Mr Somani recited the story of Rohan’s father who had died two
years ago. Rohan had taken over the hotel business at a young age and
was doing extremely well. Riya and Rohan seemed to have heard the
story too many times before and looked embarrassed. Mr Somani went
on for three minutes. I checked it against my watch.‘It’s okay, uncle,’ Rohan said.‘I just do it to make my mum happy
and proud.That’s all.’
Riya’s mother stood next to her husband throughout. Like me, she
had not said a word.
‘So, at just twenty-four, running six hotels in London with four
hundred rooms, and planning the seventh. So proud of you, son.’ Mr
Somani repeated, finally ending his tribute.
I put on an expression of extreme awe and appreciation, as seemed
to be expected of me.
‘Not that my daughter Riya is any less. Let me tell you...’ Mr
Somani said. Riya interrupted him.
‘Dad. Stop,’ she said, somewhat rude and abrupt, considering she
was speaking to her father. Mr Somani smiled and let Riya speak.
‘Dad, I want you to meet Madhav, a good triend of mine from college,’
Riya said.
Mr Somani looked at me. He paused for a second before saying
hello. I had worn Shailesh’s best blazer and shirt, but it still didn’t
match the clothes of the other guests. Mr Somani, with his impeccable
taste, had noticed my less-than-designer outfit.
‘Hello, Madhav,’ Mr Somani said. He shook my hand in an
extrafriendly way, as if to compensate for the doubts of a few seconds
ago.
‘Good to meet you, sir,’ I said, my insecurities forcing me to say
‘sir’.
‘Madhav what?’ he said. Indians have to know your last name to
place you, ‘Madhav Jha,' I said.
‘Jha,as in...’
‘Bihar. I am from Bihar,’ I said, familiar with the upcoming
question. Mr Somani didn't answer.
Riya broke the awkward silence.
‘And that's Mom,’ she said.
Riya’s mother smiled and folded her hands. I wished her with a
namaste too.A waiter arrived with a tray of drinks. Rohan took a beer, Riya
picked up a glass of wine and Mr Somani helped himself to a whisky. I
didn’t know what to take so I waved a no.
‘Nice party, Somani uncle,’ Rohan said.
Mr Somani lifted his glass for a toast. Mrs Somani made an eye
movement to indicate that some important guests had just arrived—-
someone incredibly rich or powerful, or both. Mr and Mrs Somani
excused themselves and sidled off.
Riya smiled at me. I smiled back at her, trying my best to fit in.
‘So you guys do college together, innit?’ Rohan said. His British
accent made it hard for me to understand him.
‘Yes, different course. Same college.’ Riya said.
Rohan was an inch shorter than Riya and five inches shorter than
me. However, his age and confidence made us seem like kids
answering his questions.
‘Basketball, that is wicked,’ Rohan said.
‘Wicked? Why wicked?’ I said.
He laughed, as if he didn’t mean it in a bad way. Even Riya smiled.
'What?’
‘Nothing. It’s such a British English thing,’ Riya said.
I guess I didn’t understand British or English things.
‘How do you like India?' I said, crying to make conversation.
‘Grew up here, dude. I left ten years ago,' he said.
I wondered if ten years could completely change a person’s accent.
‘Stephen's, eh? Top college. You must be pretty damn smart,’
Rohan said to me.
‘I entered through the sports quota,’ I said,
Riya’s eyes shuttled between both of us. She watched our man-to-
man equation. He was six years older, insanely rich and far more
accomplished. He also had a fancy accent, gelled hair and lived in
London. I was nothing compared to him. Yet, there was something
jerk-like about Rohan Chandak. Or maybe it was just my imagination.
At least I'm taller, I told myself to feel better.‘Riya, babe, you only got guy friends? Or you have some lovely
ladies to introduce me to?’
‘Plenty. Come to the poolside.’ Riya said.
‘Yeah. Don’t make me hang out here with the oldies.’
Riya and Rohan turned towards the pool.
‘Hey, Madhav,’ Riya said.
‘Yeah?’
‘Stop looking so lost.’
We rejoined Riya’s gang.
‘Ah, so this is where the loveliest ladies in Delhi hang out,’ Rohan
said.
Why couldn’t I think of clever lines like that?
Riya introduced Rohan to everyone. Rohan held each girl’s hand
for a second, lifted it and said ‘a pleasure to meet you’ or something
like that. It was too much, if you ask me. However, the giggly girls
liked it.
‘So you are the London hot-shot,’ Yamini said.
‘From London for sure, madam, but not a hot-shot,’ Rohan said.
Everyone laughed. I think when rich guys say something, girls find
it extra funny.
‘Wait a minute, guys,’ Rohan said as he took out his phone from
his pocket. ‘Yes, Mummy ji. Everything okay, right? When will you be
here? Everyone is asking for you... Okay, don’t be too late.The party
can’t start without you.’
I watched Rohan’s face as he stepped aside to take his call. It
glowed, perhaps due to the facial he had mentioned, or maybe it was
just his mother’s voice.
‘You ladies like to party? Is there a nightclub for afterwards?’
Rohan said when he came back.
‘There’s Agni at the Park,’ Ayesha said, playing with her hair.
I wondered why on earth anyone would leave such a fancy party
and go anywhere else. However, rich people like to have options and
try different things.‘You’ve known Riya a long time?’ Rachita asked Rohan.
‘Since she was a little girl,' Rohan said, ‘I used to be able to lift her
easily.'
‘Hah. I was two, you were eight, Rohan.’ Riya said.
‘Yes. Let me try that now,'
Rohan put his glass down. He bent forward and took hold of
Riya’s waist. Riya was too startled to protest. A surge of anger ran
through my entire body. My fists and face tightened up in a primal
response.
Leave her alone, you bastard, I said in my head.
Rohan lifted her off the ground. The girls giggled. He placed Riya
back down. It all lasted only two seconds. However, my insides
continued to burn long after it was over.
‘You are the quiet type, mate,’ Rohan said to me. ‘What’s up? Need
another drink?’
Yeah, I need to drink your blood.
Rohan beckoned to a waiter with drinks and passed me a beer
without me asking for it. I didn’t need a beer. I needed to whack this
NRI’s head like a slam-dunk shot. I needed alone time with Riya. I
needed another accent.
I chugged the beer down in one shot. I did it to assert my fast-
diminishing manliness in the group. Everyone watched me in surprise.
‘Mate, that’s rough. Go easy,’ Rohan said.
Riya understood I wasn’t being myseif. She looked at me as if to
hat the matter was. I turned the other way to avoid eye contact.
The girls gathered around Rohan. He told them stories about his
adventures at Indian airports.
'Madhav, can I talk to you for a second?’ Riya said.
We stepped away from the group.
*
We sat opposite each other on plush white sofas in Riya’s drawing
room. Two waiters hovered around us.
'Can’t we just...’ I said and fell quiet. A waiter brought us a tray ofspring rolls.
'Madhav, so many guests. How are we supposed to be more
private?’
'Yeah, fine, I understand,’ I said. I picked up two spring rolls.
‘Besides, I will see you in college on Monday, right?’ she said.
I nodded as I ate the spring rolls. A part of my frustration came
from hunger. I felt better after the snack.
‘I understand how you feel. In some ways, even I feel like a tourist
at these parties,’ Riya said.
‘What?’
‘It’s not real. All this. I’ve lived with this fakeness all my life,’ she
said.
‘And why did you speak to your dad so rudely?’
‘Did I? Whatever. He’s another fake.’
‘C’mon Riya. Don’t talk like that.’
‘You hate it here, don’t you?’
‘No, I’m fine. What a grand house you live in. I still can’t get over
it,’ I said, in an attempt to change the topic.
‘I hope it doesn’t affect us. I’m still the same Riya who plays with
you on the dusty court,’ she laughed.
‘What is “us”, Riya?’
‘Us.You and me. Our friendship.’
‘Riya, we are more than friends.’
‘Are we?’ She looked at me as if genuinely confused.
‘I’ve never kissed anyone before,’ I said.
'Madhav.’
‘What?’
‘People can hear us.’
‘Nobody can hear us.’ The loud music in the garden ensured
nobody could hear anything.
‘We’ll talk about this later.’
‘You never do,’ I said
'I will, I promise. Please cheer up now.’‘What’s with Mr London? What was he lifting you for?’
Riya laughed. ‘Oh, Ro. Ro is an old buddy. He’s mad.’
She even had a nickname for him, Ro. It means ‘cry’ in Hindi. I
wanted Ro to ro.
‘Are you jealous?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘Whatever, let’s go back in.’
She stood up.‘You liked my parents?’
I nodded.You can’t say you didn’t like someone’s parents.
‘Good. Come, let’s go in before they start getting ideas.’
Ideas? What ideas? I wanted to ask her.
We walked into the garden.The music drowned out my thoughts.
The younger crowd danced around the pool. Rohan danced with
Riya’s friends. He called out to us. I wondered if I could pretend to
dance and kick Ro into the water.
Of course, I didn’t do that. I refused to dance. I couldn’t embarrass
myself in front of this crowd. In Dumraon, we danced like mad
people. We played loud music and moved our bodies frantically. Also,
men and women never danced together. Here, Rohan danced with each
girl for a few seconds. Sometimes, he would hold their hand while
dancing, and the girl would be all giggles. What is so funny about a
rich guy holding your hand? He even held Riya’s hand once. She
twirled around him. My internal organs twirled inside me. I couldn’t
do anything but look away.
A waiter came up to me.
‘Are you Madhav jha, sir?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I said, surprised he knew my name.
‘I am from Dumraon, too.’
‘Oh, how do you know I am from there?’
'The guard outside told me. Nice to meet you, sir. Feels like I’ve
met someone from home.’
The waiter spoke to me for few minutes, shook my hand and left.Riya raised her eyebrows from the dance floor, wondering what I
was doing with the waiter. I shook my head and smiled.
There are things some people can never understand. There’s no
point telling them.

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