Nobody’s gonna take her

Our argument regarding Tiya reaches a crescendo and we are almost at each other’s throats. We’re shouting outside our hotel and a lot of people are staring at us.

‘Are you crazy?’ I say out aloud. Shrey makes a face and pulls me away from his car. ‘She is not coming with us, Shrey. This isn’t happening.’

‘But why not?’

‘She is a girl. She can’t go on a road trip. It’s not safe. Plus, we stay at really dirty places.’

‘She would be more comfortable in a filthy room than you. Stop being so sexist. And I really want her to tag along. She’s special,’ Shrey counters.

‘She is seventeen.’

‘Eighteen. And how does that matter? I really like her. This could be something new and meaningful.’

‘You always say that, Shrey. Three weeks later, it’s all history. All that will remain will be a few naked pictures of her. I am not ruining our trip because of her,’ I say.

‘This time it’s different. I am telling you. Just trust me,’ he insists. ‘Doesn’t she have to go home?’

‘She told her parents that she’s going to BITS, Pilani, for their cultural

festival for seven days. But I don’t think she’ll be with us for more than a couple of days,’ he says and I know he’s lying. He thinks he is very convincing but he smiles a little every time he thinks I am buying whatever he says.

 ‘Fine.’

Fifteen minutes later, I already regret my decision. I am driving his shitty car while he’s making out in the back seat. Why do I even listen to him? I know why—because he leaves me no other choice. Asshole. I stop by at a restaurant to grab something to eat. I am hungry as hell.

‘Where are we going next?’ Shrey asks.

‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘Are you sure you’re done with Dehradun?’

‘I have seen enough. I hate this place. So many fucking schools. This is

where childhood is murdered!’

He has hardly seen anything. As I sit there and eat, Shrey and Tiya leave

the table and click some pictures. Tiya is an amateur photographer and has one of those huge cameras with big white-and-black-striped lenses attached to it. She looks a little hot in her fitted tee, hot pants and the big camera hanging on to one side. I am still irritated with her presence. She shouldn’t be here.

I don’t feel like eating much. I take out the diary and I know it’s the only thing that can get my mood right. I keep the slip of paper with the Haridwar address inside the diary. I clasp it and my heart is thumping loudly enough to be heard by people around me. I read the name on the slip again—Piyush Makhija, the best friend from school—and wonder what he would say about the dead guy. How would he react?

‘I think we should go to Haridwar,’ I tell them.

‘Haridwar?’ Shrey asks, a little shocked.

‘Yes,’ I say.

‘Are you sure? You do know that it’s only temples, flowers and diyas

there, don’t you?’

‘I know that. I just want to see what the city is like. I’ve heard a lot about

it and it’s just an hour from here,’ I say.

‘What do you think, Tiya?’ Shrey asks and looks at Tiya. Tiya looks at

him with let’s-make-out eyes.

‘Anywhere with you,’ she says and smiles.

We leave the place and get inside our car.

‘I am not driving,’ I say.

‘Why not?’

‘I drive and you guys make out. Not happening, Shrey.’ Asshole. Fine then, we leave in the evening?’ he asks.

 We nod. Shrey takes the driving wheel and we leave the restaurant to go around Dehradun and hang out at some notable places. Shrey occasionally slips his hand from the gear on to Tiya’s bare legs. He keeps caressing them till the car starts to make strange noises.

A little later, Tiya unties her hair, props her head by the window and puts her long, never-ending legs on Shrey’s lap. She closes her eyes and lets her hair blow across her face. Shrey looks at her and smiles lovingly. Maybe this girl really is special to him.

After about twenty minutes, we switch places. I drive for the rest of the day. Shrey and Tiya keep busy clicking pictures of each other throughout. For the first time, I see Shrey posing for pictures without making a face. And I notice that Tiya is a brilliant photographer.

Are we there?’ Shrey asks as I stop the car near a new hotel. He has been busy making out for the last half an hour. We check into two separate rooms and he tells me he needs an hour with Tiya, alone. I don’t hang around them much. They’ve waited all day to reach a room and do something and I can give them one hour.

We decide to leave for Haridwar after that. I check if I still have the address. I come to my room and flop on the bed. I realize how dependent I am on Avantika. The minute I see a couple holding hands, exchanging short, sweet unsaid messages or making out, I can’t help but think of her. I miss her so much. I have no idea how long-distance relationships work. What do you do when you miss him or her like nuts? I call her.

‘Hey,’ I say. ‘Where are you?’

‘Just got back to the hotel room. I am so exhausted, Deb. I wish I were on a road trip too.’

‘Then come! I’m getting bored anyway. Shrey and Tiya keep doing stuff and I feel left out.’

‘Aww! That’s sweet. But I am going back to Delhi tomorrow. There is some work there so they cut short the Mumbai trip,’ she says and I feel sorry for her. I don’t like her working so hard.

‘Stop working so much. I think it’s time for you to retire and never be away from my arms,’ I say.

‘That’s so sweet. Don’t make me want to be there. I have so much work.’ ‘Leave work, Avantika. We need to go out and have fun!’

‘You mean we don’t have fun now?’ she asks.

 ‘We do. But we don’t do crazy stuff any more,’ I say. I really want her to come and I try to incite her. It’s stupid; I know she has better things to do than to accompany her boyfriend on a senseless road trip.

‘If it were possible, I would’ve come. I am leaving for Delhi today. My flight leaves in an hour.’

‘Hmmm.’ I make a puppy sound, but she doesn’t feel pity. I don’t blame her.

She is surprised to hear that we are going to Haridwar and even more surprised to hear that it was my idea. She is a little sceptical but doesn’t say anything. We talk for a few more minutes and hang up. Usually, how much a couple talks on the phone goes down as the relationship progresses. In our case, it has just increased exponentially. I go to sleep at six and it’s ten in the night when I wake up. Shrey and Tiya still haven’t left their room and I knock on their door to wake them up.

‘All set? It’s been four hours,’ I ask Shrey as he scrambles for his clothes and bags. We check out of the hotel soon after. Since its Shrey’s turn to drive, I doze off in the back seat. After a while, I hear the car stutter to a stop.

‘Huh?’ I wake up. I slept throughout the drive. I am a little surprised to see Tiya in the driving seat. Isn’t she too young to drive?

‘You were driving?’ I ask.

‘I am eighteen and I have a licence. And it’s real. You want to check, daddy?’ she says and looks for her handbag.

‘Okay, whatever,’ I say.

Shrey and Tiya laugh. Shrey whispers into her ear, ‘I thought I was your daddy.’

Tiya bites his ear. I have to admit I kind of like this girl. She reminds me of the Avantika I’ve never seen, the Avantika who is now forever lost behind the smoke of hash, the dust of cocaine and the hallucinations of heroin. She still has those tattoos she got made on her lower back and her arms in those delirious, foolish times. She used to do cocaine and ecstasy on a daily basis. Syringes and white powders ruled her life. Many guys, junkies like her, came and went—used her and dumped her. The serious boyfriends —one landed up in jail, the other lost both his legs in an accident—were rich bastards and drug addicts who did nothing to pull Avantika out of her misery.

 By the time I met her, she had left all that behind. The short dresses, the mad parties and the heavy make-up she had hid beneath during those years. By then she had joined Spirit of Living and was much better. I still can’t figure out what took her so long to come out of it. She is so gorgeous! Why didn’t anyone see what she was going through and pull her out of it? Avantika—the quintessential tragic beauty.

Tiya is like her photocopy, only less pretty. I applaud her devil-may-care attitude, but I’m a little scared for her. Avantika survived her reckless phase, but not everyone is as fortunate. We keep on driving and spot a signboard that indicates we are close. Soon, we reach the city of diyas, incense and the sacred river, and Tiya parks the car near a really shitty hotel.

‘Here?’ I ask.

‘Why not?’ Tiya says and takes out her bag from the car.

Shrey smiles at me. It really seems like I am the girl and not Tiya. I check

my phone. There are thirteen missed calls. Avantika. It’s a little strange, I think. I call her back, guessing that she must have reached Delhi, but I am in for a shock.

‘Hey!’ I say as I take my bag out of the car. I ask them to go along, knowing well that they would get down to business as soon as they reach their room, and tell them I will follow later.

‘Where the fuck are you, Deb? And why don’t you pick up your phone?’ Avantika says.

‘I left my phone ... I mean I dropped it in the car,’ I say. Yes, sometimes my girlfriend, though she is as adorable as a newborn, scares the shit out of me.

‘Have you reached? Don’t tell me you haven’t reached Haridwar yet! It’s just a one-hour drive from Dehradun!’

‘Yes, we have. But why?’ I ask, a little taken aback.

‘I am here.’

I blank out. It takes me a few seconds to comprehend what she is saying

and then I ask, ‘Haridwar? You are here? When? How?’

‘Yes! I wanted to surprise you, but you were just not answering your

phone,’ she says.

‘You have still surprised me! Where are you? How? Weren’t you going to

Delhi?’ I ask as I pace around the car. I am ecstatic.

‘I changed my mind. I came here instead and you—’ ‘But where are you right now?’ I ask.

 ‘Hotel Goodwin,’ she says. ‘But you spoilt it all. I had prepared everything. Hot water tub, candles and everything. Now all that’s left is molten wax, cold water and an angry girl, which is me, of course.’

‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘You would have had the time of your life, Mr Debashish Roy,’ she says. I can almost see her winking from the other side of the phone.

‘Fuck. You can’t take all that away from me,’ I squeal. ‘It’s your fault.’

‘I’m coming.’

‘Whatever,’ she says and disconnects the call.

Fuck.

I look for the keys of the car and find them on the dashboard. I rev up the engine and drive through the crowded roads of Haridwar. The city is lit up with candles, diyas, tiny LED lights from China and it looks beautiful. But I am incredibly pissed off. I couldn’t possibly have missed it. Damn the phone! I ask around for directions and reach the hotel. It’s a big hotel. I call her and she doesn’t pick up the phone. It seems like she’s having her own sweet revenge now.

‘There is someone by the name of Ms Avantika who checked in earlier this evening? Room number?’ I ask frantically at the reception.

‘F,’ the receptionist says and points to the lift lobby.

I rush through the corridors of the hotel, get on the elevator and reach the room. It’s safe to say that Batman would have taken longer to reach there— I was that quick. The door is unlocked. I take a deep breath and push the door open. I’m more eager and nervous than a newly-wed virgin bride who hasn’t even seen porn yet.

There is no light inside. I am panting by the time I reach there. My breath is heavy and my eyes are still getting used to the darkness. I look around and she is nowhere to be seen. The bed is covered with satin sheets—red and white. I see light emanating from below the washroom door. My mind tingles as I construct images in my head. I open the door slowly and the sight is exactly what my mind had conjured up ... and better!

There is a huge bathtub filled with glittering soap bubbles, lined on all sides by candles of different colours and sizes and the air filled up with intoxicating fragrances. I spot her behind those bubbles with her one leg, wet and smooth, lifted atop the bathtub. The soap hides her but I know what waits behind those shimmering soap bubbles—the succulent bosom of the

 prettiest girl ever, waiting to be devoured by me. She looks radiant in the glow of the candles around her. Her eyes are smouldering and they invite me, mock me and disarm me. Oh. And disrobe me.

She doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. Minutes later, I am with her inside the bathtub, holding her from behind and our lips are in a warm, wet embrace. All that I had imagined, and probably she had too, when I was driving down to her hotel, does not come true. We aren’t overcome by lust but love.

I just want to hold her close and never let her go. As she kisses me deeper, I can see a few drops of tears run down her cheek. I can feel what she feels. We’ve never been apart for more than a day at a stretch and it is painful. I am happy to see her and my grasp around her bare waist is not out of my physical desires and needs, but it is to tell her that I would never want to let her go.

We don’t make out. Yes, we start, but both of us just keep telling each other how much we missed the other being around. I never thought I would ever be talking to Avantika while she was naked, but I am today.

‘It’s a shame that I lit these candles, prepared the bath and ... we didn’t even do it,’ she says.

As she says it, I realize—and probably she does too—that it is actually an insult to our sex life, and almost instantly, we are all over each other. An hour later, we find ourselves on the bed, naked, wrapped around each other and in those satin sheets. It was good. It was more out of love than lust. The stares lingered for a little longer, the touches were more deliberate, the kisses were more passionate, and the moans were replaced by I love you. It was exhilarating. We didn’t have sex. We made love. There is a distinct difference.

‘How much did you miss me?’ she asks and puts her hand on my chest. I am still panting. It is challenging to make out with Avantika. I am exhausted. Making out with her is like a pleasurable and dirty version of Man vs Wild.

‘A lot,’ I say.

‘Aww! You’re the best,’ she says and kisses me.

‘You’re better!’

‘I know that,’ she says and winks at me. We lie there for quite some time. ‘So you cancelled Delhi?’ I ask her.

 ‘I had no choice; I missed you. I took the flight to Dehradun and hired a taxi to come here. Strangely I reached before you could.’ She smirks. ‘And I wanted to see how much fun you’re having on your road trip! Where have you guys put up?’

‘Umm, it’s a small place. Outskirts of the city,’ I say.

‘Why don’t you come here? You are here for a day or two, right?’

‘Yes, but it’s a road trip. The ground rule is that you don’t spend money

unless it’s really necessary. This place is really expensive. Plus, we have Tiya with us. She insists on spending her own money and she wouldn’t be able to afford this hotel,’ I say.

‘Then take me to your hotel,’ she says.

‘Sure,’ I say.

We laze around for a little while and she gathers all her stuff. Twelve

suitcases! I wonder why though. She looks good in anything she wears. ‘Are we going in this?’ she exclaims as we put her suitcases in the car. ‘Shrey insisted.’

We drive away and I text Shrey that Avantika will be joining us. There is

no reply from his side and I am too busy staring at Avantika to care. She looks beautiful as the moonlight reflects of her long black hair. As she looks in the distance, I wonder if she is thinking about me. If she is, will she always be thinking about me? Sometimes thoughts like these trouble me. What is a girl like Avantika—who is so perfect in every sense—doing with me? She deserves someone much better. I am an ugly guy who writes and publishes trashy campus novels. She can do much better than that.

‘How far is it?’ she asks.

‘Just there,’ I say and point out to the hotel.

‘Are you serious?’ she asks and crooks her nose. She looks adorable

doing that. ‘Yep.’

We stop at the gate and unload her suitcases. The bell boy of the hotel refuses to pick them up for free. They are huge and heavy. I fish out a hundred-rupee note and he smiles.

‘Seriously? This is where we’re going to stay?’ she asks again.

I nod and ask the manager for a room. The manager informs us that Tiya and Shrey moved into the last room available and that he might allow us to share that room if we pay a little extra. We do so and instruct the hotel guy to take the luggage to Shrey’s room. The waiter dumps all the suitcases in

 front of the room and goes away. He is half-dead and has a broken spine for sure. We knock on the door and Shrey opens it after the third knock.

‘Where the f ... fu ... fuck were you, man?’ Shrey shouts out as he opens the door. ‘And Avantika! Welcome to our trip! And our hotel ... and our room.’

I look at him. He looks strange. I look at Tiya. She looks stranger. Oh fuck. They are drunk! Like majorly drunk; they look like they’re about to pass out. Their eyes are rolling over and they have silly smiles plastered across their faces.

‘Did you drink?’ I ask and Tiya waves a bottle from behind. She looks sloshed and her head keeps bobbing from side to side.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Avantika says and enters the room.

I get down to my job—the suitcases. Shrey and Tiya look at me with wide-open eyes as I pick the suitcases one by one and bring them inside the room. ‘How many?’ Tiya mocks in her drunken state.

‘Twelve,’ I say as I huff and pant. Still seven to go. My back snaps into two, my body revolts against the weight.

‘Actually it was a long business trip. So, I had to,’ Avantika defends herself.

‘Long trip? You were there for three days,’ Shrey adds and both of them, the drunken fools, laugh.

I want to join in the laughter but I can’t laugh at Avantika. She is my baby. Everything she does is forgiven.

‘Shut up, Shrey. I was going to be there for two weeks,’ Avantika says. ‘And you! You should be home.’

‘I am eighteen. I can run away from home if I want to,’ Tiya says and takes a gulp from the vodka bottle.

‘It seems fun now, but you’re going down the wrong road, trust me,’ Avantika says with authority in her voice.

‘Achha? We will see what happens! You’re just jealous that you’re not young and fun any more. Twelve suitcases for a three-day trip! Even the three of us combined don’t have more than four.’

Avantika looks at the tiny four bags, those that belong to the rest of us, collects herself, and says, ‘You’re going to puke soon.’

‘No, I’m not!’ she says and the vodka bottle finds her lips again, this time for a little longer.

 ‘Isn’t she super hot?’ Shrey says and hugs her. Avantika looks uncomfortable. I think she has taken what Tiya just said seriously. She sits on the bed and I hug her.

‘Is something wrong?’ I whisper in her ears. She shakes her head unconvincingly, flicks her hair and looks away.

Suddenly, Shrey shouts out, ‘OH SHIT!’

We look at him and notice that Tiya is starting to shudder. She has both her hands on her mouth and her eyes are bulging; she is going to puke. Shrey moves away from Tiya and Avantika rushes to her side. She helps Tiya to her feet and walks her to the washroom, while I pray to God that she doesn’t puke anywhere outside it. Avantika closes the door behind them. Shrey and I look at each other and exchange a dirty expression. It’s disgusting when girls drink and puke. Only guys have the right to be disgusting. We play that part better. Plus, you can no longer kiss a girl once she has puked! Ugh. We hear sounds from inside the washroom and initiate small talk to drown out her coughs and other detestable noises. Tiya automatically becomes a little less hot for me.

‘Tiya has some balls, man,’ I say.

‘Yes, she does. She talks back to Avantika. And no one does that! Not even her boyfriend.’

‘Very funny. But yes, she is crazy ... and not in a good way.’

‘C’mon, she is so much like Avantika used to be! I still remember your college days. Those insane make-out sessions, the wacky night outs ... I’ve always wanted all that. Avantika should have dated me and not an ugly geek like you,’ he mocks.

‘Who says we don’t have insane make-out sessions now?’ I say, offended. I don’t care if someone calls me ugly, because that’s partly true, but I’m very touchy about my sex life.

‘Whatever. I love the way Tiya is. The things she does. It’s freaky! Yes, she is a little young ... but that doesn’t matter, right?’ he says.

‘But she is mad! She got drunk in fifteen minutes and puked. She doesn’t have any freaking sense.’

‘Fuck you, Deb. She will learn.’

‘Let’s see,’ I say.

We lie back and wait for the girls to come out. After about half an hour,

Tiya stumbles out and we help her on to the bed. She looks half-dead. Avantika tucks her inside a blanket and looks at Shrey with murderous eyes.

 ‘Shrey are you mad? She is just a kid. And you’re encouraging her stupid decisions,’ she says.

‘I tried to stop her.’

‘You did? You just stood there and grinned. I’ve never seen someone more irresponsible. If you love her, then don’t ruin her life. And if you don’t, please find someone who is immune to your stupidity. If you have a little sense left, you better start taking care of her or leave her. I don’t know if you realize it, but you can and you are destroying her.’

Avantika’s outburst shakes us up a little. She gets on the bed and asks the two of us to manage something on the ground. Then she switches off the light. I look at Shrey and curse him. I could be hugging Avantika right now. As I’m going to sleep, my phone rings. It’s a text from Avantika.

Am I getting old? Boring?

I reply.

Are you crazy! No!

The phone beeps again.

I wish you could hug me right now. Love you, Deb.

1 November 2010

‘What good is intimacy if you don’t love the person you are intimate with? I have never understood it and I never will.’

Ragini is slowly taking over my life. She is all over my internet space too. I added her on G****e Talk and the little green light, whenever I see it, makes my day. Today, we talked about relationships, even though I wanted to avoid it. I wasn’t scared about telling her about my past relationships, I have nothing to hide, but I was scared to know about hers. Anyway, we started to talk and she wanted to know everything about Sumi, my first girlfriend.

She was Pappus ex-girlfriend. Sumi and I came close when Pappu and I had drifted apart. Pappu was a big flirt and I don’t blame him. When you’re young and popular, it’s hard to stick around in one relationship. I was surprised when one day Pappu, drunk and out of his senses, abused me, and told me that I had snatched his girlfriend away from him. Anyway, Sumi was short, very fair and quite nice. I had really started liking her. We were together for two years and broke up in twelfth grade. She was in St Thomas and the school had really strict rules for twelfth grade students. We didn’t get much time to talk and be together. So we split. It was nothing unpleasant. We were friends for long even after the break-up. But we haven’t seen each other for long. I think I should call her one of these days.

Ragini was surprised, even chuckled, when I told her that I hadn’t kissed Sumi, or any other girl for that matter. She didn’t believe me when I told her that I felt physical intimacy is something that should be shared only between two people in love. And I know I love Ragini—not because she is pretty, has beautiful eyes and smells like the first blossom of spring. I love her for the person she is. The way she crinkles her nose when she sees a beggar on the street, how she closes her eyes whenever we cross a holy place,

  

how she listens to whatever I say and acts empathetic ... there are many reasons to love her and not one to not.

I have never shared anything about my life with anyone. Somehow, I have always maintained the bully exterior while inside I have been a little boy craving for love and attention. Ragini asks questions and things about me that no one else has ever asked or cared about. Today, she asked me about my parents and why I never talked about them.

My relationship with my parents was not always strained. I had spent a considerable time at boarding school, but the years of separation is not why I am angry; I am angry for Nivedita. Nivedita is my sister. She does not exist for my parents, though she means everything to me. Nivedita was eleven and I had just turned fifteen when she was brought into our house. It was a few months after that man had been crushed to death under the wheels of the speeding truck. I was told that her biological parents, my maternal uncle and aunt, had died in a car crash, and Nivedita had suffered severe brain damage. Her growth had been stunted and she couldn’t talk or even walk like us. She was confined to a wheelchair and could only smile. For all practical purposes, she was dead. I had never met her before. They used to live in Dubai. The first time I set eyes on her was at the airport. She was in a wheelchair. She smiled at me and we forged an instant bond.

I used to ask many questions in those days. Why couldn’t she talk? Why couldn’t she walk? Why does she just stare and smile?

That’s all Nivedita did—she smiled. She was virtually dead for everyone, but not for me. I spent that summer sitting by the side of her wheelchair, holding her hand and talking to her. Everyone else thought she had only one smile, but I could count millions of different ones. I knew what each of them meant. I told her everything and her smiles were the only responses that mattered to me. We used to spend hours together and she was the very friend I needed. She was the treasurer of all my secrets and my guiding light.

But a few days after my vacation ended, my parents packed her off to a mental asylum. I did not know about this until two months later. I fought, cried and threatened, but nothing worked. They were not going to get her back. I cried for days on end. Then I stole some money and visited the asylum in Gandhinagar, Gujarat. It took me two days and five buses to reach there. When I first saw her in the mental asylum, her body weak, frail and slumped over the wheelchair, I cried uncontrollably. I asked her to take care of herself and promised her that I would see her every fifteen days, and in return, she smiled as if to tell me that she missed me.

Ever since that day, no matter how busy I am, I go to that place every fifteen days to meet my sister, my only family. My relationship with my parents has not been the same since. I am not sure whether they realize this or not and I don’t care. I love my sister and she is all that matters. I wish to shift out of my parents’ house and get her out of that place. I don’t like her being there alone.

I told Ragini all this and she cried. She said that I was a nice person and that she was lucky to have me as her friend. I saw no sense in that sentence. I was the lucky one, not her. It was four in the morning and she had to sleep, but she said she would try to meet me tomorrow.

I wish I could see her tomorrow.

3 November 2010

‘I would never want her to be referred to as my girlfriend, a term too polluted and often abused, because she is much more than that. Why call her anything else when she has a name so beautiful?’

 

Every day I find myself more in love in with her. Every day that passes by draws me closer to her. Over the last so many days that we have been talking, I have been meaning to ask her what I mean to her, if I do mean anything at all. I want to ask her whether she sees me as a potential boyfriend, but I will not, because I don’t believe in the terms ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’. These terms are too frivolous and are just used to introduce people. I believe more in the word ‘soulmate’. It makes so much sense. When you’re in love, it’s meant for life, isn’t it? If not, then what defines love? A cup of coffee shared together? A drink? A night of merriment and intimacy? I don’t think so.

I am not in a hurry to propose to her because that’s another thing I don’t believe in. I just want to tell her that I love her. If she loves me, it’s okay. If she doesn’t, I can’t force her. I don’t know how to put this across to her.

Yesterday, we bunked our classes and went for a quiet lunch, just the two of us. She ditched her zillion other friends for me and it felt nice. Apart from feeling wanted and loved, it tells me that I am important to her. I really don’t know where this relationship is heading, but I have a good feeling about it. I don’t know what she means when she looks at me and says she’s glad she found me, but I know that somewhere in her heart, she feels the way I do. It could be a fool’s dream but it makes me happy.

I look at other couples and feel sorry for them. I see the guy whisper in the girl’s ear when they enter a movie hall and I know they want to make out during the movie. What I feel for Ragini is very different. I love her. That’s the only emotion she evokes. I just want to be with her and hear her talk and listen to me. Everything else is incidental and unnecessary. I don’t think a kiss shared between us would in any way be superior to a long conversation between us. Having said that, I don’t think I will turn down a kiss either.

She wanted to tell me something today. She said it is serious and I would judge her