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

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Thirty Four

Chetan Bhagat’s room,
Chanakya Hotel, Patna
‘You okay?’ I said.
He had paused to wipe his tears. I gave him time. He bit his lip but
it was a losing battle. Soon, he was crying like a two-year-old, his tall
torso slumped on the chair.
‘I don’t know why I’m crying. It was a long time ago,’ Madhav
said in between sobs.
‘How long?’
‘Two years and three months. Three and a half months, actually.’
‘Since she left?’
‘Yes.’
He excused himself and went to the toilet. I made two cups of
green tea. We had finished our first cup of chai a long time ago. He
came out in a few minutes. He had washed his face.
‘Sorry,’ he said.I lost it.’
‘Here, have some more tea.’
I gave a cup to him. He took a sip.
‘What tea is this?’
‘Green tea.’
‘No milk? No sugar?’ he said. He looked at me like I was a
vegetarian vampire.
‘It’s good for you,’ I said.
‘Is it? Anyway, thanks,’ he said.
‘So, Madhav. What happened then? You met the broker. You saw
her empty house. Then? Did you try to find her?’
He nodded.
‘I did. I called her company. They said she had submitted her
resignation and left, letting go of all her benefits in return for a shorternotice period.'
‘When did she resign?’
‘A week before writing the letter to me.’
‘So she knew she was leaving?’ I said.
‘Yes.When she told me to stay that night, she knew it was our last
night together. She had planned it.’
He grew sad again.
‘What else did you do?’
‘I asked the company for the list of assigned doctors. I met them.
They said Riya had come only once, when she first had a cough. After
that she had preferred to consult with her family doctors.’
‘In Delhi?’
‘Yes. In fact, I went to Delhi.’
‘To look for her?’
‘I had to go there anyway, to complete the paperwork for the grant.
I went to her house. She wasn’t there.’
‘You met her parents?’
‘Her mother. Her father had passed away a month ago.’
He sipped his tea and turned silent.
‘Did her mother know anything?’ I said.
‘No. She knew less than I did. According to her, Riya had called
her and said she might do a meditation course. That is why her phone
wasn’t reachable, she told me.’
‘You told her about the cancer?’
‘Couldn't. I didn’t have the guts to. I just expressed my
condolences over her husband’s death and left.’
‘And you came back to Bihar?’
‘Eventually, yes. Before that, I called every top hospital in Delhi to
ask about Riya. Nobody knew where she was. I contacted her family
doctor. He hadn’t heard from her for years. I called her old friends
from college.They had lost touch with her. I searched on the Internet;
she wasn’t on Faccbook or any other site. I tried contacts at phone
companies. I called the major yoga ashrams in the country. Nothing.’His face fell. I could see he found this conversation difficult.
‘I tried for three months. I hoped she would call me one more time
before she left this world. She didn't.’
‘You’re okay now?’
‘I was okay. Until these journals popped up. For the last two years,
I have focused exclusively on the school.The grant has made us one of
the best schools in the area, You should definitely come to visit.’
‘I will. Madhav, you loved her a lot, didn’t you?’
‘She is the only girl I ever loved. I don’t know if it is a lot, or less
than a lot. I do know one thing, though.’
‘What?’
‘I will never love again. Ever.’
‘Why?’
‘Something is broken inside me. I don’t have the equipment or
wiring or whatever one needs to fall in love anymore.’
I stood up from my chair and went tb the bedside table. He
continued to talk, more to himself chan me.
‘I have my school. I have my mother.That is my life.’
I picked up the journals from the bedside table. I brought them to
Madhav.
‘So how did you get these journals?’
‘Hemant called me. He had taken all of Riya’s stuff to the godown
to sell it. However, he had missed a wooden box in the far corner of
the kitchen loft. The loft was a storage space in the kitchen to keep dry
groceries. A company took the house on lease after Riya. They used
the apartment as a guest house. They almost never used the kitchen.
Two years later, the company vacated the apartment and a family of
four rented it. The lady of the family found the box and handed it to
Hemant. Hemant, in turn, called me and handed me the box with the
journals.'
I placed the journals in Madhav’s lap.
‘Here,’ I said, ‘take these.’
‘Why? I said I don’t want to. I can't,’‘Just take them,’ I said in a firm voice.
He kept his hand on the notebooks in his lap.
‘I have marked out six legible entries. You need to read them,
buddy,’ I said.
‘No, no, no,’ he said and placed the books back on the dining
table, ‘I told you, I can’t. I made myself get over her during these last
two years. Now to read all this will only undo all that.’
‘Trust me, Madhav. You need to read them.’
RIYA’S JOURNAL:
Legible entry #1
1 November 2002
This journal is a birthday gift from me to me. It is my fifteenth
birthday. Happy Birthday to me. I feel odd celebrating birthdays now.
I am not a grownup, but I don’t feel like a child either.
They say people write secrets in journals. Should I write one
down?
They say I am so quiet. Silent Riya. Mysterious Riya. Shy Riya.
I don’t answer them. All I want to say is, if you crush a flower
before it blooms, will it ever bloom as bright later?
I was not quiet as a child. I became this way. Dad knows I
changed. Dad knows I remember everything. Still, he pretends
nothing happened. I do the same.
He hasn’t touched me for the last three years. He dare not.
I don’t know why I did not tell Mom. Maybe I didn’t even know if it
was right or wrong at that time. What could she have done anyway?
Dad gave me a gold necklace today. I returned it. I find it difficult
to talk to him. He tries to reach out, but I avoid him. He says I am
still his daughter. I like writing in this journal. I am able to say things
I never can otherwise. My brother is an idiot. So are Chacha ji and
Taya ji’s boys. Spoilt brats, all of them. Just because they are boys,
nobody tells them what to do. I hate these double standards.Yeah, this journal does allow me to vent. Good night, journal.
Legible entry #2
15 December 2005
It’s over. We are over.
Madhav and I, well, we never had anything as such. Whatever it
was, it is over. He made me feel so cheap. All in Hindi. Crass Bihari
Hindi. He’s sick. I should have known. What was I thinking?
I actually hung out with him for a year. I let him kiss me.Yuck.
My friends were right. He is an idiot gawaar. I must have had a
phase of insanity. Why else would I have even talked to him?
He was not fake, that’s why.
But, all he wanted was to fuck me. Really, I know it sounds
disgusting, but that is what he wanted. And imagine someone saying
that to you in Hindi. Being told to fuck him or fuck off.
Well, mister, I am fucking off, for good. How dare you talk to me
like that? I feel like smashing his head on the basketball court.
I told him I needed time. Lots of it. Well, he didn 't want to waste
time. Because his main purpose was sex. So he could tell his friends
he nailed this rich chick.
Well, fuck off, says the rich chick.
Legible entry #3
4 September 2006
I said yes to Rohan. Yes, a month ago, when the proposal had
come, I had called it the most bizarre idea ever. Rohan bhaiya and
me? Had my mother lost her marbles? He was my rakhi brother, for
God's sake. Not to mention I am just about turning nineteen and still
in college.
But today I said yes. Well, it has been an eventful month. First,the gifts that arrived from London every week. Louis Vuitton
handbags, Chanel perfumes, Omega watches—Rohan sent them all,
not just for me, but the entire family My parents felt we may never get
this good a match again. My mother said I didn’t need to study more
as Rohan’s family was so rich.
I still didn't give in, until last night.
Yesterday, Rohan came down from London to Delhi. He came
down for just four hours, only to see me. None of our parents know he
did. He came and picked me up from Stephen’s in the Bentley he keeps
in India. We went for a long drive. He said he loves to travel, and I
would make his best travel and life partner. He said he realized I was
young, but I could continue to study in London. He had found out
from Mom that I wanted to study music. He had brought a list of the
top music schools in London with him.
Later, he went down on his knees. He took out a blue Tiffany’s box.
It had a giant three-carat diamond ring in it.
'It’s still your choice,’ he said. He put the ring back in the box and
handed it to me. Finally, he said, 'Miss Riya Somani, the most
beautiful person I know, inside and outside, since my childhood, will
you marry me?’
So, dear journal, what’s a girl to do?
That night, I took out the ring from the blue box and put it on. I
showed it to Mom. She's still on the phone with Rohan’s mother,
hysterical with happiness.
I feel rushed, yes, but this time in a good way.
Legible entry #4 (Set of several entries from London)
4 April 2007
I came to London in the middle of the academic year for music
schools. Also, they are so hard to get into. I have to prepare, apply,
give tests'. It is going to take at least eight months.
Rohan’s mother wants me to meet her friends for dimer tonight.Every night there is someone to meet. These guys are social, and how.
I told her I should stay back because Rohan was not in town, but she
said I have to come. Oh well, yet another party. Boring.
10 July 2007
Rohan travels all the time, and for a long time. He has just
extended his trip by two weeks. I joined him for two days, and saw a
bit of Istanbul. However, he’s in meetings all day and it is no fun to
roam around all alone after a white. Besides, Rohan’s mom called me
back. She was planning a party and the new daughter-in-law had to
be there.
‘So pretty,’ one of her friends had said.
‘Good you brought a girl from India. They listen to you,’ said
another.
6 September 2007
He came home drunk. He tried to hit me.
‘Why didn’t you take my call?’ he yelled.
I was in music class. I had told him. I had messaged him right
after.
‘It’s midnight, Rohan. What kind of business meetings happen so
late?’
'Shut the fuck up, bitch. What do you know about work?’
'You will not talk to me like this.’
I turned around and walked away from him.
‘You will not walk away from me like this.’
‘You learn to talk and I will stay put.’
‘I’m not drunk,’ he slurred.
I turned to him. ‘For your information, I’m twenty. I was studying
in college. I left it to marry you.’
‘You left it to live like a queen.’
‘Rohan,’ I said and paused to compose myself. ‘I had a good life
in India, too.’
‘Somani Infra owned between three brothers versus my business?
Girl, what are you comparing?’‘I am not comparing anything. I want you to stop making me out
to be this gold-digger.’
He staggered and sat on the oversized grotesque sofa in the
drawing room. ‘Sit,’ he said, patting the seat next to him.
I complied.
‘Mom said you didn’t talk to her properly when you were leaving
home today.’
‘Of course I did.’
‘Is she lying?’
'I was late for class. She wanted me to go with her to the salon. I
said we could go tomorrow.’
‘You don’t say that to my mother. Ever.’
‘I had a class, Rohan.’
‘What class? You haven’t even got admitted to a college.’
‘Yes, that’s next year. I have joined prep classes for music. It isn’t
that easy to get admitted to one of these colleges. I’ve told you all
this before.’
Rohan went up to the bar. He picked up a bottle.
‘Stop,’ I said and tried to take the bottle from him.
‘What the fuck?’ Rohan said. ‘Let go. Now.’
He pushed me hard. I lost my balance and slipped. He bent over
me. ‘Don’t touch me,’ I said and pushed him away.
I miss home. I miss college. I miss not being told how to speak to
someone elsc’s mother.
Good night, journal. It is a good thing you aren’t married.
7 September 2007
He has apologized. He said work stress was getting to him. ‘I have
a long way to go, Riya, I am nothing compared to the big hotel
moguls of the world.’
‘Why do you have to be a big hotel mogul?’ I said.
But he began to speak of his mother. ‘She’s suffered a lot in life.
My father did not treat her well. I want to be therefor her.’
Hangovers make him senti.11 lanuary 2008
Wear only Indian clothes. Can you believe this? This is what
Rohan’s mom said to me today.
‘If it makes her happy, do it. What difference does it make?’ Rohan
had said, as he chose from his two-dozen pairs of shoes this morning.
‘Why?’ I said. It isn’t like I don’t like Indian clothes. The point is,
why does she get to tell me what to wear?
'You can get the best Indian designer clothes. You want me to send
the hotel concierge? He will take you to the boutiques.’
‘That’s not the point, Rohan,’ I said.
‘Stop fussing. Her friends have certain expectations of her bahu.
You nudged in yesterday wearing a short dress.’
‘It was a regular dress, almost to my knees. Anyway, what if it was
short? What is this? A family dress code?’
He snapped his fingers at me.
‘Do it. Don’t argue.’
This is what they call marital bliss, I guess.
18 March 2008
I made a mistake. A big, big mistake. I can’t be in denial anymore.
I made a mistake marrying Rohan.
11 June 2008
He slapped me in front of his mother, thrice. She didn’t stop him.
She kind of liked it. He even pulled my hair.
Should I go into the details? I don’t think so. What is the point?
Drunk husband, mother-in-law finding something to be pissed off
about. This time it was about me seemingly ignoring her when she
called me five times (I had headphones on, and was listening to my
music tapes). Mother and son lectured me on how lucky I was, that
Rohan was at least twenty times richer than my dad, and if I didn’t
behave there would be consequences.
But now comes the real news. Rohan was sleeping when his plum,
buzzed at 3 a.m. He didn’t wake up. It buzzed again. I feared if he
woke lif he would fight with me again. I was enjoying the night’ssilence. So I walked up to the bedside table and picked up his phone
to put it on silent. It buzzed again. A Whatsapp message flashed in
the notifications. It was from someone called Kristin: Miss ur body
honey. Wish I had u with me tonight.
Kristin had sent pictures of her body too.
I came back to bed. I didn’t feel bad. In fact, I felt light. I had to
make a tough decision and that decision had just been made for me.
Legible entry #5
13 June 2008
My marriage is over.
I left London without telling anyone and came home. I landed in
Delhi this morning. When I told Mom everything, she wanted me to
take the next flight back, and she had to call Dad. I told her I had
decided I was not going back, no matter what Dad said.
‘He seemed so nice,’ Dad said at dinner without looking at me.
I explained Rohan to them. Rohan liked to conquer. Whether it is
a hotel property or his wife, he liked the thrill of chasing more than
what he chased.
'I said no to him. He had to have me. Once he did, he didn’t care,’
I said I skipped some stuff. I didn’t say how he used to force himself
on me when he was drunk. I didn’t say anything about Rohan’s
mother asking her son to teach me a lesson, or about Kristin.
'Rohan’s mother controls him. And she doesn’t like me,’ is all I
said.
‘Women have to learn to adjust, beta,’ my mother said.
‘Adjust? How does one adjust to violence?’
I lifted my left hand to show her the swelling. Rohan had pushed
me and I had broken my wrist.
'What will people say?’ Mom blurted out.
Let's find out.
Legible entry set #617 February 2009
Sometimes you need a knock on the head to come hack to your
senses. I received it hard knock today. I don’t know what happened to
me yesterday. I kissed Madhav on the roof of his haveli. It made me
forget reality. I started dreaming.
And how the dream crashed. Just when those silly feelings of 'this
seems so right' started to take root, Rani Sahiha brought me back to
my senses.
The signs were already there. How could I forget those
disapproving glances from her in the living room? How idiotic of me
to open up to her. Just because she was Madhav’s mom, I thought she
would also accept my past like Madhav did? She fed me litti-chokha.
It didn't mean she liked me.
‘Are you the girl he was involved with in college?’ she asked me in
the school staffroom today, when Madhav went to take his class. I
didn’t know what to say. I had no idea what Madhav had told her
about me.
'We were good friends, yes,' I said.
‘And now?’ she said.
‘Friends only. Nothing else, aunty’ I said, a stammer in my voice.
'I know my son. He will get involved with you again.’
‘Aunty, we do like each other but... ’
‘Stay out of his life,’ she said shortly.
‘Aunty, but..,'
She stared at me.
‘You are divorced. You must be desperate for another man. My
son is handsome and a prince here. Of course, I can sense your
plans.’
‘Plans?’
‘It is so easy for your type. One man didn’t work out, so get
another.’
If it were not Madhav’s mother, I would have snapped back. I
controlled myself.'I don’t want anyone,’ I said.
‘Then leave him. He is too weak for you.’
'I expect nothing,’ I said. She handed me a tissue when she saw my
tears. ‘He does.’
Rani Sahiba folded her hands.
‘He is all I have. If you stay here, he will never move on. You may
be a big shot in Delhi. However, the Prince of Dumraon won’t be with
a Marwari divorcee. Respect in society is also worth something,’ she
said.
I wasn’t respectable, I guess.
‘What do you want me to do? Stop meeting him?’
‘That won’t be enough. He won’t stop chasing you. You have done
mayajaal on him.’
Before I could answer, Madhav arrived. He pulled me by my hand
to take me to the classroom.
Mayajaal, an illusory trap. Nice one, Rani Sahiba.
5 March 2009
I’m in Delhi. Dad passed away last night.
I saw him in the ICU yesterday afternoon. He could barely talk.
He said I had to meet Gupta uncle, his lawyer.
I went to Gupta uncle’s office. He told me my father had stashed
away some money for me in a secret account.
‘Don’t tell your brothers or anyone at home. They may sue and
the matter will be stuck in the courts for years,’ Gupta uncle said.
I signed the papers. I remained silent during the funeral.
I was in two minds. I knew why Dad was giving me the money. It
was hush money, money for me to go away from his mind, from his
conscience, from his guilt. But I told myself to be practical. I will
need the money where I’m going.
Also, maybe I was ready to forget and move on. Not forgive, but
forget.
14 April 2009
I leave in three days. No more drama. No more dealing withanother boy’s mother. I don’t want anyone’s pity either. I am a
divorcee. If that makes me tainted, so be it.
I am not upset with Rani Sahiba. I came to Patna to be alone.
Madhav happened. Yes, he's nice. I know he loves me, and is falling
for me more and more every day. I like him, too. Is that why I said yes
to a job in Patna? Did I do so in the hope of meeting him again?
Perhaps.
To be loved and to love is nice. However, right now, more than
love, I want peace.
Madhav won’t get it. He won’t let go if I explain all this to him. I
have been through it. He hasn’t. He won’t stop pursuing me. The
simplest way out is if he thinks I am no longer an option.
I had a minor infection in Dumraon. So far, I have pretended it
hasn’t healed. Hence, when I leave, it will be more believable. Sure,
he will be upset. However, he will get over it eventually and marry a
princess sooner or later, who will come to him without a past, without
deep dark secrets.
My fingers shake as I write this. I must stay strong. I have to type
my parting note. I am faking my illness. Maybe I can at least be
honest in my last letter and tell him how I feel about him...
He's coming home for the final rehearsal, it will be our last night
together. Is it wrong if I make him stay over?

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