The Break Up

“ Don’t think about her, dammit. Its over. Everything’s over. How can you still have feelings for someone so insensitive, so heartless? She doesn’t care about you. Why do you?”

It was the words that revolved in my head most often. I couldn’t help thinking about her. No matter how much I tried to hate her, I couldn’t bring myself to direct one single abuse at her, or think ill of her. So I used to settle for subtle words like ‘heartless’.

It was a week since we broke up. The relationship had unofficially ceased to exist. We had exchanged “ I don’t care for you anymore,” and “ Go to hell,” which I guess marked a full stop to our relationship. No call from her, no text message, no e-mail, and a week’s gap. I needed no more proof that it was over. But I couldn’t bring myself to face the harsh reality. I still loved her as ever.

It was at the night when I felt most lonely, when my heart yearned to talk to her, to hear her familiar ‘ oh oo’ that she used to tease me, to hear her chirpy voice, to make her laugh with my ridiculous jokes. Every night my mind reverted back to the night of 19^th June, her birthday- a beginning of New Year for her, and a new life, sans me.

The days were quite busy, so I didn’t get much time to brood over the “ What went wrong with us” question that swept over me from time to time. But the moment I disengaged my mind from the monotony of daily activities- classes, college and studies, her thought gave no respite to my brain.

I turned over in my bed. “ Please God, why is the bloody sleep evading me?” I opened my eyes out of exasperation. The false ceiling stared back at me. And pasted on it were her gifted ‘ fluorescent stars’. We had bought it on the local train from a man hollering “ din me saaf chhat dekho, raat me chand tare dekho”(see the clean ceiling during the day, see the moon and stars during the night). I remembered asking the man, “ Mujhe din me taare dekhne hai,” at which she laughed so hard that others passengers started staring at her. I am no comedian, but my moronic comments never failed to tickle her. I resolutely shut my eyes again with an “ Aargh, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you control your feelings?”

When I opened my eyes, it was tomorrow. I passed an idle glance at the watch. 8 am, it showed. Shit, I was late. I had college at 10. I hadn’t completed my assignment yet. She hadn’t allowed me to do anything the previous night. I hurriedly went through my just-woke-up activities. At that very moment, my phone beeped. My heart gave a violent jolt. Is that her? I grabbed the cell-phone with my heart hammering wildly against my chest. I wasn’t much of a gregarious person, so had limited circle of friends, and even less people messaging me at this time in the morning.

A NEW MESSAGE FROM (damn it)

ADITYA, read the screen. I opened it-

HEY BUDDY, GOOD NEWZ. NO COLL 2DAY. NJOY J

Yeah, right. I thought. My ass enjoy. Can’t bear one more day with her thought popping in my head every few moments. Had enough of it last Sunday. I muttered some choicest swears I reserved for ‘special’ occasion. Today demanded one.

I kept my phone away. At least, you don’t have to complete the assignment, I tried to soothe myself. I would rather complete 10 such assignments, the reply was shot back. Then do it. Your classes don’t burden you any less. A slightly louder voice, smarting from the insult by the second one rang in my mind. Yes, sure. Very lucrative prospect, the second voice retorted.

I sighed. No point. I had to resign to my fate. Fate-strange thing it is. Was a break up my fate? Is it all because of destiny? Is everything so very out of our hands? That we can’t help the going on’s of our life? Is, as my mom related in her stories that lulled me to sleep in childhood, everything pre-determined?

I ate lunch in silence. A commotion had ensued in my head. The two voices were on fire once again.

1: It’s not possible. We make our own destiny. We write our own book of life. There’s no such thing as It were to happen. That’s why it happened. Sheer bullshit, it is.

2: Then what kind of things do we make happen?

1: Things that make you feel are right. Things that appeal you, that make you happy.

2: Splitting up from her- that makes you happy?

1: (Silence)

2: Tearing your own heart apart, that makes appeals you?

1: (Silence)

2: Breaking the heart of someone you love. That feels right?

1(somewhat irritated at its own inability to respond): Stop being vague. What point do you intend to drive at home?

2: Isn’t it obvious? Parting ways doesn’t make you happy. You can’t move on. Your feelings for her haven’t evaporated yet. You are incapable of getting your mind off her. The break-up has resulted in so many break-downs. You still indulge in diving back into good-old-times’ memories. Make up dude, make up with her. There’s no harm. You won’t be exposing your vulnerability. She already knows what you are, how you are. All she doesn’t know is how you still feel about her. Express yourself. Tell her how much you still love her. How much you long to get back together with her. How much you miss those long late night calls, those relentless stream of messages, those lovely e-mails, her calling you sweets, love, sugarcoated heart, those whispered sweet nothings on dates. Confide in her how much you pine for holding her hand again and kissing those lovely soft lips. Reveal how you would still revel in her thoughts, how her voice mesmerizes you, how her presence by your side makes you feel you have achieved heaven. Go on. Tell her lets just bury the past and embark on a new beginning, usher in a new dawn bereft of misunderstanding, quarrel and unpleasantness.

1(small, presumably ailing from nostalgia): But she hurt me.

2: God! Not again. No more whining. Ok, tell me one simple thing. Do you or not still love her?

1(still small): Yeah.

2: In spite of her hurting you?

1: Yeah.

2: Do you think she still loves you?

1: I guess so. The possible reason that she hasn’t contacted me all these days might be the

same as mine. Ego.

2: Then what are you waiting for?

1: Yes. (A bit louder) Yes. I am gonna do it. (Even louder) I AM GONNA DO IT!

I picked up my phone as both voices in unison, commanded me, “ DO IT”. The caller tune Pehla Nasha played. I sensed she hadn’t still changed it. It was the same since last two years we had been together. My heart leapt up in joy as I heard familiar “ Hello?”

“ Hey, its me” I used the, what she called, chilled-out-tone. I wanted to appear much more composed than I felt.

She slowly spoke up after a pause. “ Yes?”

“ Would you like to meet me tonight? At 8? In the Eden garden?”

“ Actually…”

“ No actually, vactually. I want to meet you.” Talking to her, even though for a few seconds, transformed me into my playful old self and I used a mock- authoritative tone.

“ Arre listen baba…”

Oh, her voice is so sweet! She had used the same tone as she used while convincing me, consoling me or while we were at our sweet-nothings business. “ Nopes dear, I am not gonna listen today. I will be waiting for you. Love you!”

I hung up. My heart was in raptures. I looked at the watch. It was 12 pm. Still 8 more hours to go. Ah, the agony and ecstasy of longing for the rendezvous!

It was 7.25 when I reached the garden. There was an unusually less crowd tonight. The less, the better it is. Not that one expects privacy in a public place, but if you are getting it for granted, we are certainly not complaining, I mused. I removed my shoes and walked on the grass. It felt so soft, so comfortable. Mild breeze brushed against me every now and then. I noticed a girl, her head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder, his arm around her, as he caressed her hair, and I smiled to myself. How can the moral brigade find such sweet gestures of love offending?

I looked at my watch again. Every passing minute seemed like ages. It was 8 pm. She wasn’t there yet. Might have been stuck somewhere, I comforted myself. She can’t ditch me today, even though I hadn’t given her a chance to talk, at least for old time’s sake, she can’t.

She had tried calling me back. When I didn’t answer the call, she had messaged me. But I replied with a BABY, I HAVEN’T READ ANY OF YOUR MSGES. I DON’T WANNA DILUTE DA JOY OF TALKIN 2 U ONCE AGAIN. AT 8, IT IS.

It was 8.15 now. Still no sign of her. My heart was doing a Titanic. I stared at the grass, as two tears plopped out soaking a few blades. As I looked up, I saw a silhouette. It is a girl, I realized as it edged nearer. It’s her! There was another guy with her, whom I had not noticed earlier. I recognized him as an old friend of her’s. She had told me about him. An old school mate, whom she had a crush on, years ago. He often used to come to Mumbai, during his holidays, as he had shifted to Delhi a couple of years ago. A harmless guy was the first impression that he gave me when I met him up last time he was in Mumbai. Anyway, who cared, now that she was here!

“ Hello, dear.” Nothing, no one, could have adulterated the elation I felt just at the sight of her walking towards me.

“ Hi. By the way, I would like to introduce you to Nikhil…”

“ We have already met, thank you.” I mock snapped.

“ Please let me complete.”

“ Yup, Nikhil Chadda, I know.”

She rolled her eyes.“ Oh please…”

“ Why,” I smiled. “ Wanna add the father’s name too? Sorry I don’t know that. You may have that privilege.” My bounciness couldn’t be suppressed now.

“ Can I please speak?” She had emphasized on ‘please’. She had to, after all the last two didn’t seem to work.

“ Ok, go ahead.”

“ This is Nikhil, my boyfriend.”

I stared at her; my gaze was transfixed on her eyes. Tell me you are kidding, please, I fervently prayed.

“ Oh, you just don’t let people talk. I was so wanting to tell you about us…” For a change, this ‘us’ didn’t imply me and her.