Schoolmates (36 page)

Riya opened her eyes and looked at Vikram. He stood there transfixed, fist clenched, a raw nerve protruding from the side of his neck. Riya had that look in her eyes, that look Vikram had never seen before. It was as if she had woken up, suddenly developed a new perspective, a new realisation of someone waking from slumber and viewing the world afresh. A look of pure love, but it was not for him. It was for someone else.

“Then who am I?” Vikram had managed to ask.

“You are Vikram . . . my friend. That had been it . . . for all this while. I can’t give anything to you. He robbed me of everything years back.” Riya said.

And just like a mist, the air was clear between them. Vikram saw she was taken, so totally in love with Kabir that even the gods had no claim over her. He also understood what had led to this current state of both their miseries. He had removed his ring and placed it on the table, turning towards Riya’s dad he had called off the marriage. The night sky was darker than before as Vikram had exited Brig. Sehgal’s home yesterday.

What I was not expecting was to see him today. And he was just stepping out, with his parents when I turned my car in the drive way.

“Okay . . . this will get ugly,” Anjali had murmured to herself.

“No. It won’t today. I am not here to begin any quarrel. We are all adults, we’ll just settle this in a mature way.” I had said, my own words mocking me as I heard them.

Anjali turned and looked at me with who-do-you-think-you’re-kidding look.

Things were going to get ugly. I knew this as I saw Vikram walking towards my car, beckoning me to step out, with a body language that suddenly reminded me of Tejas . . . Tejas Ahluwalia. The guy who had brought me and Riya together. He was still here . . .

“Hey Vikram,” I had said as a mark of greeting. I was standing in front of him, a good distance between us. My hands were in my pockets, his were resting on his waist, fisted, angry and ready to pounce on me.

His breathing was picking pace, his eyes were getting red. I knew Anjali was correct . . . again. He wanted to fight me . . . rather he wanted to beat me up.

“You have some nerve!! You pretended to be my friend . . . and all the while you . . . pervert, had eyes for my fiancee!!” Vikram shouted.

“Hey hold on! I never pretended to be your friend okay! I was . . . am still. It’s just that your fiancee . . . is . . .” What was I supposed to say to a lost and hurting guy?

“What? Finish the sentence damn you . . . my fiancee is what . . . some medal? Now you want a taste of her too?” Vikram had moved a step closer.

“DONT INSULT HER!” I was holding it back. “She is a victim in all this just as me . . .”

“You? Victim . . . ? I can laugh my life out now. If anyone is a victim, it’s me! You and that two faced cheater have played your games on me.”

“Why?” Vikram pushed me with both hands. He was strong; years of playing squash had toned his biceps beyond imagination. Adrenaline was making them rock solid. I knew a strong opponent when I saw one. I too had had years of experience.

“Promise me! You will not begin a fight again!” Riya had said taking my face in the palm of her hands. The anaesthesia was wearing out and the stitches on my temple were starting to ache.

“You know I can’t do that! I have rivals Riya! I need to look out for both of us!” I had spoken softly, but decidedly.

“No. you can’t look-out by fighting! Thugs do that!” Riya had insisted in her sweet way, a few bits of a broken watch in her hands.

I had smiled at her. She looked so pretty when she tried to win me like this.

“Okay. I promise one thing
. . .
if and only if, someone says anything about my flightless bird, which I do not like (and, sometimes other than this too)
. . .
I will beat the hell out of them. But
. . .
will not start a fight myself. That’s all I can promise you.”

“Vikram don’t do that! Stop insulting her!” I said. I knew it was a matter of time now.

“People are watching Vikram. Your parents, Anjali . . . Riya, all are watching us.” I had to try something. But Vikram kept mounting his attacks. He kept pushing me.

“So what? You think I care now for anyone anymore . . . let them see, let them see the low life who is standing here despite being thrown out of this very house all so many years ago! Let her see, let her dad see. You are still the ass he threw out . . . the foolish girl has grown into nothing except a freaking foolish woman!! Riya, that two faced lying . . .” Vikram had insulted me, that I did not mind in the least, the guy was furious obviously. But Riya was my pride, and that could not be compromised with.

“DON’T TAKE HER NAME!!” I had finally shouted.

“And don’t you dare tell me what to do you bastard!” and he had thrown a full punch at me, which landed perfectly on my jaw, throwing me behind! I rolled over and the hard gravel grazed my arms. The sweater had luckily prevented any laceration or tear. Anjali got out of the car and ran up to me and lifted me up.

“Get up! Get up! You slime ball!! GET UP!!” Vikram was shouting in madness, oblivious to the calls of his own parents. He had pushed his dad aside and asked the old folks to stay clear. Riya was standing holding her mother’s arm and watching terrorised as Vikram prepared to gourd me to pulp.

“Vik . . . I din’t come . . . fight . . .” I tried to stand but my head was spinning.

Bam! Another punch!

I could taste blood in my mouth. I think I had bitten my own cheek due to the impact. My ear ached too. Anger weld in me. I wanted to hit him back! Din’t this call for self-defence? What was Vikram thinking? That I couldn’t fight back . . . if only I had not promised Riya!

Bam! Another one in my ribs.

“Get up! Or maybe I should get that bloody brazen girlfriend of yours to . . .”

That was it. I could hear no more of what he said, not about Riya . . . never about my girl.

And I ran head along into him! Both of us landed on ground and I landed him a series of blows, taking numerous kicks in return.

But years of anger and frustration began to get out of me. Vikram was stronger, but my rage and anguish was over powering his efforts. My loneliness, the screams, the torture, the hopelessness . . . all left me and I felt he had invited this fury upon himself!

I knew we were being watched. I knew people were calling out for us to stop. But we kept fighting. Shirts were torn, blood spilled from both our faces and we stopped only out of exhaustion.

“Don’t hate him Vikram!” Anjali was speaking to a half awake Vikram as he sat leaning against the big tyres of his car. I sat afar, panting and trying to focus.

“It was always them . . . her dad din’t see it! Look what it did to her! At least you see what is so evidently clear . . . they are together, have been ever since I saw him with her! The whole school saw. And mind you, Kabir wouldn’t have let you near her if he knew you were going to harm her. I have known him in school . . . he is more protective of her than even her dad realizes. So . . . don’t get mad. That’s just how things are . . . and will be.” Anjali had said to him.

I saw Vikram stir, get up, gingerly and pull out his car keys, amid numerous protests from Riya’s dad. His dad finally took charge and forcefully took the keys from Vikram’s shivering scratched and fast swelling hands. He opened the passenger door for his beaten and broken son and drove away.

He left behind a very intense scene though.

CHAPTER-25

I
recall a faint memory of a day from my class twelfth. It was our second and final set of pre-board examination time. I knew that after these days I would not see Riya till March. School would declare preparatory leave and she would be barricaded in her house for ever. All I could do was think of her every single moment of the day and therefore my preparations were rather poor.

It was the English paper I suppose, the memory is dull, but I recall that this was one common paper between us. So on the pretext of seeking help, I had sent Dev to fetch her. She knew I had no doubts yet she came.

I had sat with her that day and heard nothing except her calm voice, filled with a deep hidden sadness. It had hurt me so deep that I almost felt like crying myself for the sheer helplessness I felt that day. Even though Riya had sat next to me, there was a huge sea between us and I felt isolated and deserted.

I had realised that day what my pranks had done. They hadmade sure I realise the full damage inflicted by my years of wild stubbornness.

And today . . . after so many years I felt the same.

I had fought Riya’s fiancee right under the despising fiery stare of Mrs and Brig. Sehgal. Yet again I had proven that nothing about me had changed, that I was indeed, still a rowdy boy and completely unsuitable for their daughter.

I was aware of a throbbing vein on my temple. It was paining intensely. I was also aware that someone was driving and I was lying in the backseat. When I opened my swollen eyes, I realised with difficulty, that I was in Anjali’s huge car and that a driver was driving us fast. Anjali was sitting next to me and holding my hand.

“Where . . . ?” I mumbled.

“Quiet now . . . I’m taking you to the hospital,” Anjali had said. “Riya . . . ?” I mumbled again.

“She is all right. She helped put you in the car though. It’s OK.” I dosed off after that.

When I woke up, a nurse was changing charts. The doctor had asked to be called as soon as I woke up and so he was summoned. Anjali was still there, surprisingly. I made a mental note to thank her.

“How are you feeling Mr. Kabir?” The doctor asked.

“Hurt . . .” I replied.

“Hmm . . . nothing new for you, I’ve heard.” The doctor looked sideways at Anjali. She nodded in affirmation.

‘So much for helping me, she never missed a chance to pull my leg.’ I thought.

“Yeah! Just new medicines . . .” I smiled politely. My head was really heavy and aching.

“Not all new! Anjali here told us well in time that Procaine doesn’t suit you. So the aesthetic was same old as your Xylocaine. Anyway . . . you’ll heal soon. Take your rest as mentioned and we will discharge you soon. I’ll come by later in the evening.” The doctor nodded and left.

“How . . . how did YOU know it din’t suit me?” I asked Anjali after she stepped closer to my bed.

“Riya told me . . . right after Vikram left and after you fainted.” Anjali said. “She knew back from school days . . .”

I can’t explain to myself how that made me feel. She remembered . . .

“Kabir, listen carefully now. Her dad is mad at you . . . and also at her. Somehow, you need to mend all of this. The upstart is that her wedding with Vikram is off and so she is free . . . the down part is that you are the cause!” Anjali spoke in a serious yet affectionate tone.

I could not even nod my head. Yet, Anjali continued her speech.

“You need to convince her dad that she will survive only with you, that you will love, honour and protect her and that you are the only man she will truly love . . . although I’m sure he won’t need clarification for that.” Anjali mumbled the last part of her sentence.

“What’d you mean?” I asked slipping in and out of my anaesthesia, feeling the stings of pain every time I spoke.

“You don’t remember? Before you fainted?” Anjali asked.

“No . . .” I said.

“Well . . . when Vikram backed off and you came into vision, she had broken free of her dad and came running towards you. You almost fell and hit your head with your car when she had grabbed you and rested your bleeding head on her shoulders . . . it wasn’t a very pleasant site for her dad or Vikram. He left immediately. That’s when she told me about the Procain! I thought you were lucid, you kept calling her name.” Anjali finished.

“Is she . . . ok?” I was suddenly aware that her actions would have infuriated the old man.

“Yeah, I suppose the cat is totally out of the bag NOW! Her dad hadn’t even called her in, her mom just stood there next to her dad. Riya had full focused on you , but . . . honestly Kabby; I did feel for Vikram there. She did not even bother looking at him! Or let’s say he was swift in his exit. But she did cradle you, pressing your head with a cloth, a handkerchief, I reckon. Old habits . . .” Anjali had walked near my side and now stood facing me. She had a concerned look on her face. I merely inhaled and exhaled.

A distant memory was coming to fore . . .

“No. It feels good when you hold my hand. Promise, you won’t leave it
. . .
even if I fight sometimes and maybe get suspended and if people say I am a bad boy or when they say I’m not good enough for a girl like you or . . .” I had said softly till she had shut me up with her casual laugh.

She had nodded in affirmation and lightly touched my swollen cheek with her handkerchief. I had smiled at her light touch, although I think she saw pain in my eyes, when I winced inwardly.

‘I won’t ever leave you, promise
. . .’
she had said and I thought to myself.
. .
‘I would kill for her any day.’

My head was hurting bad and so were the thoughts in it. She loved me immensely. I was the luckiest man and now I would not let my life, my love slip out of my hand. Her dad will have to accept me,
in-toto,
just as I am because Riya loved me as I am, right now.

And somehow, after I woke up, I will have to do this, as quite frankly it was getting impossible to live without her now and since she was mine, there was no point in her suffering . . . I was the one who gave it to her and I would take it all away.

I slept with this idea. ‘I love you . . . my flightless bird!’

I had dreamt of her again that night. But it was different now. It was not painful. I did not scream. I saw her waiting for me in that same farewell sari under the same enclosure . . . or was it the mall where I met her. I knew I had to reach her now, or the doors behind her will close her away from me forever . . . I knew I had to hold her by the hand and pull her towards me . . . this was it . . . there was no time to lose. I was not hurt or lost . . . I was ready.