20 July 1999
For the first two periods, I sat alone in class.
Brahmi had changed her seat and sat with Shrikant Gupta, a dour-faced, unimpressive fellow, in another row. Sahil and Rishab were sitting on the seat behind her. Conciliatory smiles were exchanged. I might be in the wrong but that did nothing to blanch the fury that ran through my veins like molten lava. The sadness of my love story ending before it had even started was manifesting itself in anger.
During the lunch break, Rishab and Sahil, who talked to and laughed with Brahmi, were at the basketball court playing football with a Cosco cricket ball. I followed them and volunteered for the opposite team. Brahmi watched from the sidelines, frowning, hurt flowing in abundance from her eyes. The match started and an inhuman strength grew within me, it churned in my stomach and flew through my limbs, and I ran and shoved and bumped and kicked and jumped like a Russian soldier on steroids. Gasps surrounded me as half a dozen players suffered injuries and humiliation, including Rishab and Sahil. None of the boys cowed down to my domination because like Brahmi there were other girls watching the proceedings. The only plausible reason for my behaviour was some ancient genes controlling mating practices among gorillas kicking into action within me—beat your fellow mates to get the girl.
Five minutes from the lunch-break bell, the other team took me out in a well-planned and perfectly executed manoeuvre. A shove and a trip, a sharp nudge and a punch, and I was on the ground, bleeding from my mouth and my head. Two of the boys from my team took me to the medical room, ignoring my protests. I walked past my three ex-friends, head held high, lips pursed, blood dripping from my head.
Later I was told that my team, short by three boys, lost by two goals.
The rebukes from the medical teacher and the spilt blood drained the anger from me. I was mended and bandaged and was free to go. The painkiller made my brain swim, my limbs numb and my tongue loose. Floating in my head and stumbling through reality, I left the medical room.
Outside, Sahil, Rishab and Brahmi were waiting for me. Brahmi dismissed Rishab and Sahil like lowly courtiers.
They nodded at me and left. Brahmi patted the concrete stairs she was sitting on. I went over and sat next to her.
‘That was a stupid stunt,’ she said.
‘It seemed like a fun game to me.’
‘You didn’t have to lie to me. Why did you?’
Lup-dup. My little frog heart beat again. Lup-dup. A little blip on the heart monitor. I wouldn’t have said what I did but I had no control over my tongue. The chemicals from the painkiller gave me an unforeseen courage to accept the consequences of what I was about to say.
‘I didn’t know Sahil well. I had heard frightening things about him and when the two of you started getting close I was terrified. I have grown to be possessive of you even though I have no business to. It was a misstep trying to control what you feel. I felt helpless and angry. There was nothing between Arundhati and me, or for that matter anyone else. You’re the first girl I have grown to like.’ I said without stopping for breath.
‘You should have told me that.’
I stared at my fingers which could have been any number from ten to fourteen, too scared to look up.
‘But don’t worry, I won’t talk to you from now on. I’m sorry for what I did on the field today. I wanted to hurt Sahil and Rishab,’ I said.
‘And you did,’ said Brahmi. I felt her hand hover near my head. She adjusted the bandage. ‘So you like me?’
My voice failed me for a bit. The words came out in a stutter. Is the painkiller wearing off? Her smile only made it worse. I said, ‘I have never had a girl for a friend so . . . also, you’re so much like me. So I think I just . . . I don’t know. I spoilt everything, didn’t I?’
‘You were right about something. You’re just like me.’
‘Am I?’
‘Richa could reach out to me easily because that day wasn’t the first day I was near your house. I have been there before, multiple times, just like you have been to mine.’
‘But . . . but—’
‘It shouldn’t be surprising to you since I know you have done the same. But if you want to know why I was there, I’ll tell you that I wanted to see Mina. It assuaged some of my guilt over losing Adolf. After a few days I realized I was looking at you, not Mina.’
‘Why would you look at me, Brahmi?’
‘Why would you look at me, Raghu?’
LUP-DUP.
‘I have talked to my Mumma too about you.’
LUP-DUP.
‘Did you tell her I scored as much as you did in the boards? Because you should tell her I scored as much as you did.’
‘I might have missed that,’ she said.
‘Why would you not tell her that?’
‘It’s entirely my decision,’ she said.
‘And what is your decision?’
‘Raghu. If we are to decide to like each other more than we like others then there is a minefield of ground rules to follow.’
‘I will never lie again.’
‘That’s the least of our worries, don’t you think? What if tomorrow I wake up to an assembly announcement of your suicide? What will it do to me?’ asked Brahmi.
‘Do you get these dreams too?’ She didn’t answer. I continued, ‘But I will have you know that I haven’t felt suicidal for a very long time. The little voice inside of me has quietened. So much so that I feel almost selfish for having moved on from Sami’s death,’ I said.
‘Raghu.’
‘Let’s decide we won’t do it then? Let’s promise to live. Let’s save each other,’ I said.
‘This is exactly what I am afraid of, Raghu. I can’t promise you that and you can’t promise me that even. You know nothing about me.’
‘Why don’t you tell me?’
‘I don’t know how to,’ she said.
‘You parents clearly know, why can’t I?’
‘Because you can’t,’ she said.
‘So us liking each other is off the table? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘It’s not off the table. But I don’t want to be a reason for more sorrow.’
‘How’s that even possible?’
‘Didn’t you think that about your parents?’ she asked. ‘But fine.’
‘Fine, what?’
‘Let’s decide to like each other. I have a question though,’ she said. ‘Are we using the word “like” because love is too scary to use?’
‘I love you.’
I heard my heart stop and jerk back to life as if jolted with a thunderbolt.
‘I love you too.’
‘Can I know all your stories now?’ I said.
‘Was all this a trap to juice me out of my stories?’
I shook my head.
She laughed, and that was the most beautiful thing.
‘I can tell you about this one,’ she said pointing to a jab rather than a slit. ‘By god, how stupid was I two years ago?’
I had to concur after she told me why she had jabbed her wrist with a compass. A couple of boys had drawn a lewd picture of hers, Xeroxed it and stuck it on noticeboards as revenge for her before-time submission of an assignment. I wanted names, addresses and a handgun to hunt the boys down, paint the world red with their blood. Later we decided to say the words, I, love, and you in different combinations and wondered how if only spoken in the correct order these innocuous words turn powerful and all-consuming. We backed it up with physiological evidence when she placed her hand on my chest and felt it thump. We decided we would give each other three short missed calls in the evening just in case we missed hearing it from each other.
We bunked the last period and went to the planetarium. The universe witnessed our first date.