Half Girlfriend Page 20

  Rohan’s mother wants me to meet her friends for dinner 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 while. 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 else’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 there for her.’

  Hangovers make him senti.

  14 January 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 trudged 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 phone buzzed at 3 a.m. He didn’t wake up. It buzzed again. I feared if he woke up he would fight with me again. I was enjoying the night’s silence. 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 #6

  17 February 2009

  Sometimes you need a knock on the head to come back to your senses. I received a 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 Sahiba 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 with another 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?

  35

  Chanakya Hotel, Patna

  Madhav continued to stare at the last page long after he had read it, fists clenched.

  ‘What?’ he burst out and went silent.

  He turned his gaze from the journal to me.

  ‘What is this, Chetan sir?’ he said.

  ‘Your friend’s journals, remember?’ I said.

  He slammed the notebook shut, and took rapid shallow breaths. He buried his face in his hands, ran fingers through his thick, uncombed hair. He remained still until I touched his shoulder.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I said.

  He looked at me in a dazed way. His face had turned an intense shade of red.

  ‘She’s alive,’ he mumbled.

  ‘That is what it seems like,’ I said.

  ‘She’s alive,’ he said again. His body began to shake uncontrollably.

  ‘So you see why I called you. You said she’s dead. You wanted to throw these journals away.’

  ‘How could she lie? Such a big lie. . .the bitch.’

  He fought back tears.

  ‘Madhav, you said you loved her. What kind of language is this?’

  ‘I. . .I. . .’ he said and stopped, unable to finish the sentence, the thought.

  ‘You’re in shock.’

  ‘She always does this. She runs away. The only way she deals with issues is by running away.’

  He broke down then, tears in his stubble.

  ‘It took me years to get over her. I have still not healed. How could she. . .?’ he muttered to himself.

  ‘At least you found out,’ I said.

  ‘She didn’t want me to. She wanted to dump me again.’

  ‘She wanted to protect herself. And you.’

  ‘Me? How did this protect me?’

  ‘She didn’t want to be a burden in your life.’

  ‘Riya could never be a burden in my life. She was my life,’ Madhav said matter-of-factly.

  I handed him a tissue. He crushed it in his hand instead of wiping his eyes.

  ‘Aren’t you happy she’s alive?’

  ‘I should be, but all I feel is anger right now.’

  ‘I can understand.’

  ‘Two years. Not a single day when I didn’t think of her.’

  ‘What are you going to do, Madhav?’ I said.

  He ignored my question.

  ‘When she left, I almost needed to be treated for depression,’ he said, mostly to himself.

  ‘You went through a lot.’

  ‘Chetan sir, does what she did seem fair to you?’

  ‘I guess not. But life is complicated sometimes. She seemed to have her reasons.’

  ‘My mother? How is it even an issue? In fact, even my mother says Riya made me look more alive than anyone else.’

  ‘Riya had a bad experience. Once bitten and all that.’

  ‘I’m not Rohan.’

  Like always, I had become over-involved in a situation. I needed to get home. It was Madhav Jha who had to plan what to do next.

  He seemed lost in thought. I stood up to pack my bags.

  ‘Can I stay for some more time?’ he said.

  ‘Sure,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders. He went to a corner of the room to make a phone call. I zipped up my suitcase. He returned after a few minutes.

  ‘I called her home in Delhi. Her mother says she has not heard from her in years,’ Madhav said.

  ‘She really has disappeared from everywhere,’ I said.

  I lifted my bag from the bed and placed it on the ground. I pulled out the rod of my strolley.

  ‘I’m sorry. This is the only flight to Mumbai today.’

  ‘Thank you for whatever you did.’

  ‘I did nothing.’

  ‘Can I accompany you to the airport?’

  We sat in the car in silence. He spoke after passing two traffic signals.

  ‘I’ll find her,’ Madhav said in a calm but decisive voice.

  I looked at him.

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where could she be?’

  ‘I have a hunch. She always used to mention her dream. To be a singer in a sm
all bar in New York.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘If she has cut herself off from the entire world, wouldn’t she finally want to pursue her dream?’

  ‘How can you be sure? Where in New York? Or maybe she found another city? Or maybe she is doing something else?’ I said.

  ‘So you think I shouldn’t look?’

  ‘I’m just being realistic. Sorry, I didn’t mean to discourage you.’

  We remained silent for the rest of the drive. We reached the Lok Nayak Jayaprakash Airport. He helped me load my bag on the trolley. I told myself to withdraw from this situation. I couldn’t.

  ‘Keep in touch,’ I said, as the security guard at the entrance checked my photo ID and ticket.

  ‘I will, sir.’

  ‘You really are going to look for her?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Even though you may never find her and end up in more pain?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I can’t quit, sir. It’s not in my genes to do so.’

  36

  After Chetan Bhagat left, I remained in Patna for a while. I met as many people as I could from Riya’s past.

  First, I went to her old office.

  ‘She resigned but did not tell us her plans,’ Mohini, her ex-colleague at Nestlé, told me.

  ‘Did she seem sick?’

  ‘Not really,’ Mohini said.

  I visited East India Travels, the agency Nestlé’s staff used.

  ‘You remember Riya Somani? She worked at Nestlé’s Patna office two years ago,’ I said.

  ‘Pretty girl?’ said Ajay, the young agent at the travel agency.

  ‘Extremely pretty,’ I corrected him.

  ‘Madam did use this agency. Her father had become quite sick. Round trip to Delhi, right?’ Ajay said.

  ‘Yes, anything after that?’ I said.

  Ajay pounded his keyboard. He shook his head a couple of times.

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Trying,’ Ajay said and spoke after a minute. ‘I have something. She took another flight to Delhi. One way. On 17 April 2009.’

  I checked the screen. She had flown out the same day as the Bill Gates talk.

  I went to the car-hire company. However, they didn’t maintain old records so they had no idea.

  I went to Kotak Mahindra Bank, where Riya had her salary credited. I met Roshan Joshi, the branch manager.