Of Course I Love You!: Till I find someone better… (11 page)

‘I see that I see nothing. I see that there is no one around. Which means that no matter what we do here, no one is going to notice!’

That was enough encouragement for our frenzied hormones. We lunged at each other and within seconds, we were all over each other, searching for things inside each other’s T-shirts. She hadn’t quite left her wild streak at the Spirit of Living conventions. We were very much in love but who says you can’t be
in lust
too?

‘Hey there!’ a big voice boomed behind us.

‘Oh! Fuck!’ I whispered as we separated and pulled down our shirts.

He was a huge guy. Or a small guy with a huge paunch. He was the most dreaded creature under the circumstances—dishevelled sparse hair, untrimmed moustache, red-stained and decayed teeth, and a pumpkin-sized face—the Delhi Police!

The only thing worse than being caught pants down by your parents is to be caught by the cops.

Not that it was within their right to do anything about it, but they always played the
we-will-tell-your-parents
card. Traffic policemen were getting richer by the day thanks to the exorbitant fines, so the others type of cops didn’t quite relish being left behind. It became expensive to get caught.

‘Sir, we are sorry.’ I almost broke down and bent down to catch hold of his feet. I pulled back just in time. Overacting wasn’t cool. As I was getting up, Avantika put her hand in my back pocket.

‘Sorry? What the hell do you think you are doing here? What if somebody puts a knife through you here? Who will save you then? There is nobody within a mile from here,’ he shouted.

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Give your names and your addresses,’ he said as he came closer and sprayed bits of the betel he was chewing on me. He was still a metre away from me, the closest his paunch would allow him to come. ‘I will have to inform your parents about this.’

Aww! C’mon! At least say something new!

‘Sorry, sir. We will never do it again,’ Avantika said apologetically.
We will never get caught again
. She was a natural, finding time to blow kisses and winking at me in between. Not to mention sticking her hand down my pocket and squeezing my butt again.

‘No, nothing will do. You will have to come to the police station with me. Give me your names. Right now,’ he said and whipped out his notepad. He was taking it too far. He went through the full motion of writing down our names and addresses, not even bothering to look up our identity cards even once. It was a sham.

‘Sir, we are sorry. Can’t we just settle the matter here?’ she said in a
cut-the-crap-and-get-to-the-point
fashion, bent backwards and placed her hands on her waist. His big moustached face lit up. I was sure we were the first ones to get caught today.

‘No, that won’t do. Give me your names. Right now. You can’t be let off easily,’ he said, trying to make it sound like a big offence.

‘Sir … we told you we are sorry. Let’s forget it, sir. I am sure
something
can be done,’ she said.

‘I know how you kids behave. Your parents should be told about this. Let your parents come here and then we will decide.’

‘Please don’t do that, sir. Let us settle things between us. Why drag parents into this? Sorry, sir,’ she said. She was the
man
again. I would have sobbed my way out of that, with the same result. The act was over and it was time for some money to exchange hands.

‘Okay, if you promise that you will never do such a thing ever again, then I will leave you.’

Oh. You fucking saint!

‘We promise, sir,’ we echoed. We were being preached at by someone who had unlawfully caught us and would unlawfully accept a bribe.
Sweet.

‘Where is your car?’ he asked.

‘There.’ I was thankful the game was cut short by Avantika. It was getting boring and the stench of his sweat was getting unbearable.

‘Let’s go,’ he said and asked me to follow. Avantika followed us. ‘How long have you two been doing this?’ he asked, as he climbed into the car, which seemed too small for his two-hundred-pound frame.

‘I …’

‘Anyway, how much do you have? Take out your wallet.’ He was getting impatient with the preaching.

‘Sir, not much. Plus, we are students, sir, and we don’t have much. It’s the end of the month …’ I said, as I brought out my wallet.

‘Show that to me.’ He snatched it from me. As expected, there were just a hundred bucks in there. I was shocked and impressed.
Good job done, Avantika.

Avantika was not squeezing my butt earlier. She was squeezing out the wallet from my back pocket and all the money in it!

‘Sir, I need to go back home. I need fifty bucks for that,’ I said.

His face shrank to the size of a raisin. The ethics of bribery guided them not to take money from a female accomplice. I was sure he wouldn’t ask her for money.

‘I will leave you this time. But watch out. Next time, I will inform your parents. You are lucky that I didn’t do that this time.’ He took the fifty bucks and left, disappointed and nearly empty-handed.

‘Not a bad deal, eh?’ I said.

‘Nope. You owe me a treat. I just saved you a thousand bucks.’

Avantika was intelligent and experienced and it showed. I hoped her experience was a traffic violation incident and not kissing her ex-boyfriends in public.

We kissed again. And the world stopped to matter.

The two months went past in a flash. We met every single day, every single night during those two months. We crashed farmhouse parties, weddings, even stayed locked up in her college classroom for a night, as it was her fantasy to make out on the professor’s table. I loved the way our night-outs ended, especially when they ended at her place. Most of the times it used to be a bubble bath, after which we would wrap ourselves in a single white towel, her head on my chest. We would kiss and I would feel the wetness of her hair on my face and it felt like heaven. Our life was a montage from a cheesy romantic movie.

Night-outs were about much more than groping. Much more. They were not a pretext to make out. They were a necessity—the only way we could have spent more time together.

We dodged Shawar and his friends a million times during those days. A lot of them hung around the places we did. Avantika obviously couldn’t tell Shawar about me. Tanmay had not said anything but by now Shawar had guessed that it was not sisterly love that I had for Avantika. The last time she talked about a break-up, Shawar spent three days drinking and asking about me and cursing me. So, dumping him for another guy meant two of us going down. Shawar and me.

He will hunt you down and kill you … not beat you up, but kill you for real. Trust me, he can do that
, Avantika once told me.

I had never been a morning person. I hated mornings. I hated the chirping birds, I hated the milkman, I hated the morning shower, and I hated alarm clocks with a vengeance. It only took Avantika to change all that. She would give me a time when I would wake her up. Usually it was two hours too early for me, but I wouldn’t miss her early morning voice for anything in the world. That day, I wanted to see her. It was the first day of the two-month-long vacation and she was staying in the hostel. Since she was one of the few girls who had stayed back, I had figured she could do with some company.

‘Hi baby, what time is it?’ Avantika asked in a low, husky groggy tone.

‘Seven fifty. We still have ten minutes.’ I had changed my number again, to the one that had reduced call rates up to eight in the morning. Invariably, I woke up minutes before 8 a.m. for those precious few minutes of dirt-cheap ecstasy. It is amazing how love changes one’s biological clock.

‘What’s up, Deb?’

‘Nothing, the
doodhwala
did not come today. So, I’m coming back from the grocery store. I got three litres of double-toned milk, want some?’ I lied.

‘Why didn’t you call me when you woke up?’ she asked. With others, it was always an accusing cross-question.
Why didn’t you call me? Where were you? What were you doing? What was so important that you couldn’t take out a single minute for me?
With her, it was just a question. The details of place, time, nature of work were secondary.

‘Nothing, was in a bit of a rush,’ I said. I had reached her hostel. ‘I will call you in a while.’

‘Okay, bye. Miss you.’ I disconnected the line because I didn’t want to get caught. She always saw through my lies. I drove around and parked the car nearby. I called her again.

‘Hi, Deb.’

‘Hi! What’s up?’ I asked. Just then, an ambulance passed by me, with its siren on full blast. Damn.

‘Hey! What is that siren behind you? I can hear the same here. Are you here? Outside my hostel? You are here, right?’

‘Oho! That’s so unfair! I wanted to surprise you and the freaking siren … Yes, I am outside and I waiting,’ I conceded.

‘I will be there in ten minutes. I am still in my pyjamas.’

‘Shut up and get out. Nobody is around, and I love you in your pyjamas.’

‘But …’

‘You have two minutes. Quick!’ I disconnected the line and waited for her.

She came running out of her hostel door, a big smile on her face, and hugged the life out of me. Even with her ruffled hair, crumpled T-shirt and the pink pyjamas, she looked adorable. I stood there imagining what it would be like to watch her sleep every morning.

‘Such a surprise, Deb! Thanks for coming. I missed you.’

‘The pleasure is all mine. Can we sit in the car?’ I asked her in anticipation.

‘Yes, sure.’ Bang. She closed the car door. A little harder and it would have fallen off. But then, you always have poor quality mechanical engineers to blame it on.

‘Your car smells great! New freshener?’ she laughed out.

‘No,’ I said as I adjusted the rear view mirror. ‘Look,’ I pointed out to the mirror.

‘OH MY GOD! Deb!’ she shrieked covering her mouth with both her hands, her eyes quivering and looking at me. Hundreds of yellow and red petals were strewn all over the back seat, covering every inch of it, and a huge pink card screaming in bold red letters:
Love you, Avantika.
My experience with gifts and surprises was minimal and I had no idea what would make Avantika happy. Still, I wanted to do something for her, something that communicated to her beyond my usual words. Cards and flowers were clichéd, but that’s all I could think of.

Her welled-up eyes told me that she appreciated my effort. She read the card, on which I had written everything I felt about her, and she was immediately in tears. She lunged at me and hugged me.

‘Love you, Deb, I love you so much. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.’

‘Oh, c’mon. Your ex-boyfriends must have gifted you things much better than this,’ I said, trying to fish for compliments.

‘It’s not about what they gifted me or what you did. It’s the intention behind it. And these,’ she pointed to the card, ‘are words I will never forget. That’s all that matters. Your words are all I need.’

I blushed. We spent the rest of the day driving around in the car. She didn’t want to leave the setting. The good part done, I later had to do an even better job of cleaning the car before I handed it over to Dad. It helped that Avantika had stuffed a lot of the petals into her nightsuit pockets, fists and armpits before leaving. I loved her. Our love was flowering.

As I drove back home, my surprise felt silly but I was glad she liked it. It was cheesy, but it worked. I couldn’t stop smiling for the entire day. My mom was sure something was up. Moms always know.

The next two months were a repeat of that day. I would wake up early and take the metro to her hostel while she would wait in her pyjamas for me. We would go out for long walks, share a
coffee at the nearby coffee shop and she would go back to her hostel. We never ran out of things to say. No matter how much you trust someone, there are things you always hide from them. Sometimes it’s out of the fear of judgement, sometimes it’s because you’re ashamed of those things. It takes courage to admit to stuff in front of someone when you haven’t accepted them yourself. Avantika gave me that courage. I didn’t think twice before telling her all my shameful secrets, all my desires, and my ambitions. She never judged me.

‘No one’s perfect,’ she would whisper into my ears and hold my hand.

I would whisper back, ‘You’re perfect.’

She would smile and lay all my fears to rest.

Just as Avantika’s vacation ended, Shrey’s vacation came to an end too. He was back from Paris and I wanted to hear all his exotic stories. He used to send me pictures on mail, but he said he would give me all the gossip once he was back in India.

‘Hey! Welcome back,’ I said as I hugged him. I looked around for some gifts that he may have got for us but I couldn’t see anything. Thank god I hadn’t planned a ‘Welcome Back’ party for him. But at least he was footing the bill for that day’s lunch.

‘Before anything, give me the filthiest Hindi abuses you have ever heard of. It’s been a while since I have heard any of that. Missed them a lot, man. French people are always so nice to you that sometimes you want to kill yourself.’

‘I am sorry. But with my impaired vocabulary, I don’t think I can be of any help. Why don’t you call up Vernita instead,
bhenchod
?’ I said.

He hadn’t changed. I dreaded that a Paris-returned Shrey might have an accent and an air of sophistication about him but, thankfully, nothing had changed.

‘Oh yes, I am meeting her tomorrow. But tell me. Is there something wrong between Vernita and you? I heard something
but I didn’t want to interfere. You know how we end up fighting every time I try to talk sense into her.’

‘It’s just a little fight. It will be okay in a while,’ I said, not wanting to go into all the details.

‘Whatever. Are Yogi and Viru coming over?’

‘They should be here any moment. Rohit is coming with them too. Oh, they are already here.’ They barged in through the door. Their enthusiasm was unbelievable. Even I wasn’t as happy to see him as they were and I was his best friend.

‘Dude! So tell us. How many girls did you sleep with? Do all women have anti-gravity boobs there? Was your professor as hot as she sounded over the phone? Did you make a girlfriend?’ Viru asked, pinning him.

‘That’s more questions than he would have been asked in his research in France,’ Yogi quipped.

‘Ha!’ Shrey smirked.

Damn! It looked like he had had loads of fun.

‘So, how was it?’ I asked.

‘It was fun. I just hope I don’t end up with a couple of white kids claiming to be my sons if I ever visit that place again. The worst girls out there would make the best here seem like baby elephants. Even the older ones. They are just so young and so fit,’ Shrey said and licked his fingers.

‘Did you sleep with older ones, too?’ Viru asked as he drank his beer.

‘No,’ Shrey shrugged.

‘Why? Never mind, tell me more.’

‘My professor, she wore hot pants on holidays. She is fifty, beat that. I started going to the gym just so I could see her.’

‘Did you sleep with her?’ Viru asked. His curiosity made me uncomfortable. Shrey’s sexual escapades didn’t excite me either. If anything, I was a little jealous. I reminded myself of Avantika and calmed down. He wasn’t as lucky as I was.

‘No,’ Shrey said. I was relieved.

‘
Why
not? Why the hell not?’ Viru was getting restless.

‘Why the hell not? I respected her, dude. She is the first
person in the world to have successfully digitalized the entire electrochemical broaching process. Even at the National Physical Laboratories …’

‘What? Is that your reason?’ Yogi mocked.

‘Not acceptable, man,’ I added.

I loved that he had not slept with the supposedly stunning professor. Maybe his Paris trip wasn’t as much fun as it had seemed in the pictures. Besides, I was still dating the hottest girl ever. Yeah, we are men—we are shallow and silly.

‘That and the fact that her sister wouldn’t have liked it,’ Shrey smirked.

‘What … what do you mean?’ I gasped. There came the challenge.

‘Obviously he means that he slept with her. Didn’t you?’ Viru answered quite intelligently.

I needed something to eat. Or beer. French girls would have done best, but …
Avantika! You have Avantika.
I calmed down.

‘Yes. I did,’ Shrey said, his chin pointing up. He smiled like he owned the world.
I am dating a goddamned goddess
, I told myself to calm down. I wanted to shout that out but I ate my words and my parantha.

‘What was it like? Man, did you make a video? Don’t tell me all you got us are these stupid Eiffel Tower pictures,’ Viru added.

The video, apart from the obvious viewing pleasure would have also meant free membership of the greatest Indian porn site—
www.debonairblog.com
. Like every hosteller, DCE hostellers, too, had just four avenues for time pass—porn, movies, sex talk and alcohol. A few of them had a fifth—a girlfriend.

‘Obviously, no videos.’ He held his head so high he might have touched the ceiling any moment. I hoped the fan would come in between and cut it clean off his neck. I was glad there was no proof of his sexual conquests. It would have been disturbing.

‘Tell me. Is it as easy to hook up as they show in movies and other sitcoms?’ Viru asked.

‘Pretty much. You just have to look out for the drunken girls, approach them with an English-to-French dictionary and boom
… you find yourself in their flats and apartments and houses,’ Shrey said.

‘Is it that easy?’ Viru asked. A few cars could have passed through his gaping mouth. He had probably started fantasizing about having a drunken French girl on his knees. I know
I
had.

‘So how many girls did you sleep with?’ I asked, hoping the number wouldn’t be mind-boggling. I also reminded myself of how much I loved Avantika.

‘Six. Beat that.’

I could not. Not even close. For the past few years, people who knew me bashed me for being a male slut even when I was not. Shrey was the slut!

‘Six? Man, you are lucky,’ Yogi shrieked. He was yet to see a topless girl off-screen.

‘But what about Vandana?’ Rohit said. He had been quiet all this time, wringing his face to signify different degrees of disgust.

‘What about her? She is good,’ Shrey said.

‘No, I mean, have you told her that you have slept with someone else?’

‘Are you nuts? Obviously not.’

‘No?’ Rohit asked, and his face contorted beyond recognition. He was still going around with his school sweetheart and had accepted every other girl as his sister. Since he was from the IT department, he never realized what the scarcity of girls felt like.

‘But I think you really should. It’s not right what you did to her. Anyway, you guys carry on. I better leave now. Bye.’ He got up and left unceremoniously. Maybe, he found us repulsive and immoral.

‘Deb, I heard you have started going around with Avantika. How is it going?’ Shrey asked.

‘Did you sleep with her?’ Viru added. ‘I have heard she is hot as hell.’

‘It’s going fine. And some things are personal,’ I said. I really wanted to tell them how we were making out in a graveyard parking lot when the freaky-looking guard freaked the shit out of us. But yes, Avantika and I had not yet slept together and I
didn’t feel the need to ask her about it. It would happen when it would happen. I wasn’t too concerned.

‘French girls may be hotter. They may have figures one would die for. They may even be better at blowjobs, but I still long to do it with an Indian girl. Deb, you are a lucky dog. I would love to swap places with you,’ Shrey said.

Yeah, right.

‘But why is that?’ I asked. No matter what he did in France, I would have never given up the time I had spent with Avantika for the time he had spent in France.

‘I don’t know. There is a sense of achievement when you run around after someone and finally get her,’ Shrey said. ‘French girls are easy.’

‘But what about the frustration when you run after someone and you get nothing but disappointment and when you are alone at night staring at porn. I wish Indian girls were as easy,’ Viru said and looked at me.

‘I understand your pain.’

‘Of course you don’t. You just slept with six French women! Anyway, how
is
Vandana? Did she miss you? Of course,
you
didn’t miss her,’ Viru asked Shrey.

‘I hope she did. I did,’ he said wistfully. I had told him he would.

Viru and Yogi left after a little while. Shrey told me he hadn’t slept with anyone in France. He said he just couldn’t muster up the courage to cheat on Vandana any more. He said he had lied to the other guys because he didn’t want to disappoint them.

‘So, you really missed her a lot?’ I asked him.

‘Not a single day went by when I didn’t think of her,’ he said. It was nice to see Shrey, always too cocky, having a vulnerable moment. I liked this Shrey better, better than the one who claimed to have slept with six French women.