The World's Best Boyfriend

by Durjoy Datta

  It hit Dhruv like a subway train. Dhruv bundled Sanchit out of the room and opened his college e-mail. The internship was for the exact two months he had been obsessing about. It was in the AMTECH headquarters, a software start-up, in Bangalore, far away from his empty house, from those memories, from the biting loneliness. They had one spot for the first-year students. Today was the last day to apply.

  This was exactly what he wanted.

  I Love u Rachu

  58

  Sanchit didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified at Dhruv’s ambition to crack the AMTECH interviews. Sanchit hadn’t seen him sleep a wink in that month, and every time Dhruv tried to sleep, Sanchit feared he would pass away; cause of death—exhaustion and with traces of depression in the bones.

  ‘Am I ready?’ asked Dhruv the day before the interview.

  ‘I taught you but today even I wouldn’t go against you.’

  ‘Do you think I can beat Aranya?’ asked Dhruv.

  ‘You can beat anyone,’ said Sanchit. ‘You should sleep now. Tomorrow is your big day, dude.’

  Dhruv nodded and went to bed to spend a night of tossing and turning, sweating, the bed sheet sticking to his back, tears flowing freely. He told himself he didn’t miss a mother who would calm him down before a big exam the following day; he didn’t need the encouraging words of his father. Sleep evaded him.

  Sanchit found himself on the roof that night drinking alone when he spotted Dhruv’s arch nemesis, his eternal love, Aranya ambling below with a book in hand. Sanchit followed her.

  ‘Hey?’ said Sanchit.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Aranya.

  ‘Checking out competition, what else? Dhruv is going against you tomorrow and you should be wary of him.’

  ‘How’s he doing now? Haven’t seen much of him in college, is he alright?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be more concerned about me threatening you?’

  ‘I don’t get threatened, Sanchit.’

  ‘You turn me on,’ said Sanchit.

  ‘You’re gross.’

  ‘Keep saying that and I will cut out my heart for you.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’ asked Aranya.

  ‘I love you, Aranya. The only problem is you’re out of my league, and I’m a good friend to Dhruv. So it’s my great sacrifice. Forgoing my love so that a great love story can take root.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Fine. Let’s play a little game here, Aranya.’ Sanchit faked diabolic laughter and raised an eyebrow for effect. ‘You don’t love him, do you? So under no circumstances would you let go of the internship for him.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because you have a Hitler-like father and you would do anything to run away from him, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘How do you know that?’ asked Aranya.

  ‘I am God. You will realize that later. But back to the point, what was I saying? Oh yes, the internship. Dhruv needs it or he will have to spend two months in the hostel alone. ALONE. His father just died and he doesn’t have a family to go back to. Pretty tough life that kid has. I asked him to come with me but he refused. He’s going to be depressed as shit here. He looks suicidal to me.’

  ‘I don’t care. I would see him go under a bus.’

  ‘We will know about that tomorrow, won’t we?’ asked Sanchit.

  ‘Sure, now if you don’t mind I have to revise the course for the third time in two days to bolster my already lopsided chance of running your friend into the ground.’

  ‘Damn. You’re cruel! Did I mention that his estranged father just died and he has been drowning in depression? Or did you just miss that part?’

  Aranya shrugged. ‘Just so I know, did you give him the same choice? What did he pick?’

  ‘Maybe I did. Wouldn’t you really like it if I told you that?’ asked Sanchit and walked away calmly, knowing full well he had destroyed Aranya’s night. She would spend the hours battling whether to save Dhruv or save herself.

  Love’s cruel, thought Sanchit, and it won’t be any fun if it’s not so. Easy love is no love. Love’s not love unless you’re laid waste by it, unless you’re destroyed by it, ripped apart and scarred for life by it. Puppy love is bullshit, it’s for kids, hook-ups and sex. Real love is to see your girl humiliate you by getting into bed with your best friend and enjoying it, and still being with her, knowing it will destroy you and that you will destroy her. Love is a conscious decision to be destroyed. Love is being in a roller coaster without the seat belt, there will be highs and lows, you may be thrown out, trampled beneath the wheels, or thrown up to the heavens.

  If you can do that, you can be in love. Otherwise, try again, maybe?

  I Love u Rachu

  59

  Aranya tried out three hairstyles; it was the longest time she had ever given to her hair. She looked good now, she thought, at least presentable. She thought of applying make-up but got into an internal debate—whether she was doing it for herself or the people around her. A quick Google search and YouTube video of John Green told her she was doing it for herself and she found the courage to apply a faint lipstick. Goddamn it. Her lips were chapped. Why did she even try?

  She locked the room behind her and joined the minions whom she would mercilessly crush today in the training and placement room. Two sprightly young men walked into the room dressed in polo-neck T-shirts and distressed denims, quite a contrast to the applicants, all of whom were in crisp, suffocating white and black suits.

  The two men, Indians but with accents, showed them slides of the offices they were supposed to work in, the cafeteria, the women, the men, and left everyone salivating in the room.

  Aranya saw Dhruv walk in and sit in the last row. He was gorgeous in his suit that strained against his arms and chest, yet he looked like shit. While the others in the room were like lambs to slaughter for her, and she would do that with the stoic face of a butcher, she felt sorry for Dhruv.

  She would be sad when she defeated him.

  She wanted to cuddle him, tell him it was going to be okay, cradle his head in her arms, tell him she loved him, and then bring the knife to his throat and slice it open and cry when he bled dry. She was sure she loved him, for now he didn’t look like Superman’s Luther, or Batman’s Joker, and even with a mean suit on, he was more like a furball, a little pug, harmless and lovable.

  The two men left the room and the question papers were distributed. Nervously, she looked around to see if the questions befuddled the applicants, and on seeing people struggle a smile broke across her face and she bulldozed through the question paper. While leaving the room she saw Dhruv vigorously chewing the back of his pencil, sweating, but unlike others, not looking for help from the adjacent table.

  The crowd filtered out and the question papers were collected for evaluation. Students milled about near the foyer, nervously and passionately discussing how their qualifying round went. Some of them had given up, others were preparing for the interview. Aranya fed on their nervousness and unpreparedness and hovered around like a dementor, sucking the happiness off people’s face by confidently smiling at them.

  At a distance sat Dhruv, his knees shaking. He was biting the skin off his nail. Just then one of the seniors put up the list of ten students from the first year who would be interviewed. While others rushed towards it, Aranya saw Dhruv say a little prayer, which wasn’t like supposed to happen before Armageddon.

  Aranya was through. And so was Dhruv.

  The ten students waited in a line outside the room for the interviews to start. A little later, a third man joined the ranks to take the interviews. The students gasped as he shook hands with the other interviewers.

  It was Raghuvir.

  While passing the students, Aranya saw Raghuvir smile at her from the corner of her eye. Before she could ask what was going on, Raghuvir had already disappeared inside the room.

  This was almost unfair. No one else even stood a chance now. Aranya
was sure she’d get through and she wasn’t as happy as she thought she would be. Raghuvir wasn’t supposed to be here. He had said he was leaving soon. What was this then?

  Names were called out at random and they were hammered and spit out from the interview room. It was hard to fathom that those innocuous-looking men could inflict so much damage.

  They took a break for lunch. Dhruv, Aranya and a classmate battling nervous breakdown were ushered into a room and asked to wait. It took all the might in the world and more for Aranya to not start a conversation with Dhruv but she failed in the end and said, ‘It’s going to be okay.’ She didn’t know why she said that. She actually wanted to say, drop out and it will all be okay.

  ‘Easy for you to say, Aranya. You’re smart and you’re charming. There’s no way I’m getting through this. Plus, there’s Raghuvir.’

  The normalcy of the conversation threw Aranya a little off balance.

  ‘You really want to get this, don’t you?’ asked Aranya.

  ‘Yes, I do. And so do you,’ answered Dhruv.

  ‘I’m going to get it, Dhruv. I’m sorry for whatever happened and I know you need to be out of this college for the summers but I just need this. I really need this.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because you should be prepared, Dhruv. Behind those doors, I’m a queen, and you’re not going to beat me. This isn’t Temple Run, this is real life and I’m prepared for it and you’re not. Just because you studied for a month doesn’t mean you have the wherewithal to beat me. I’m not being pompous, Dhruv, I’m being realistic. And you just saw Raghuvir walk in. Who do you think he will choose? Please don’t have hopes from this internship. Find something else to do in these two months. Please. I don’t want to feel guilty later. I want to tell myself I told you to not have any hopes from this.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have to feel guilty, Aranya,’ said Dhruv and waved his hand like he didn’t care. Aranya felt her heart slowly turn to mush and slip to her knees; she was already guilty.

  ‘Take back your application, Dhruv. You’re not going to win this and you’re going to hate me for it.’

  ‘I already hate you, Aranya. I don’t think there’s anything more I can do in that department.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Aranya said.

  Dhruv shrugged.

  Aranya checked herself. If she were to continue the conversation, she would tell him that she loved him and that would be the end of her.

  I Love u Rachu

  60

  ‘Can I have a word with you?’

  ‘Me?’ asked Aranya. Raghuvir nodded. Dhruv rolled his eyes while the third student threw his hands in the air.

  ‘This interview was clearly fixed,’ whispered the third boy in Dhruv’s ear.

  Aranya got up, smoothed her skirt nervously, and left with Raghuvir, fully aware of Dhruv’s eyes following her every move.

  ‘What is it, Sir?’ asked Aranya.

  ‘Come with me,’ said Raghuvir, reaching for her. Raghuvir led Aranya by her hand to the steps of the training and placement department. He sat exactly where he had the night of the Freshers’ Party, the night they first met. Aranya kept standing, unsure and a little angry at the preferential treatment.

  ‘Sit,’ he said.

  Aranya complied, sitting away at a comfortable distance. ‘Sir, this is not correct. The rest of the students will think you have a partial attitude towards me. Is that why you never told me which company you had joined? Are you doing it out of pity for me, Sir?’

  ‘How does that matter, Aranya?’ A bunch of students walked past them, squinting, murmuring. Aranya looked away from them, pretending she was invisible. She waited for them to turn around the corner.

  ‘It does. My win won’t be warranted if it’s not won with total honesty,’ argued Aranya.

  ‘And where has your honesty taken you, Aranya? This whole thing, this entire interview is dishonest,’ confessed Raghuvir now catching her gaze. ‘Interviewing first-year students for a paid internship was my idea from the very beginning. It’s no secret to the college authorities why I have come here. I have come back for you. I’m turning over a new leaf.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘I kept thinking about you after you left that day. Frankly, at first, I wasn’t confident about you or even me, that we can do this—you and me giving a shot at being together. But then I thought why not? The belief only got stronger when I told you I was trying to turn over a new leaf, and I was no longer looking for replacements for Smriti, and you stopped texting me. Not one text!’

  ‘A new leaf? I thought you had moved on! That you had found somone!’

  ‘Ha! No, I hadn’t. And that’s when I thought we might be meant to be together. We are both strong-willed, ambitious people, Aranya. And I have seen how difficult it is to find someone who gets you. So that’s why I’m here. To turn over a new leaf and give it a shot.’ Raghuvir took her sweaty hand into his. ‘You and me, in a different city than this, away from the prying eyes of your parents. Who knows? Maybe you will find love?’

  Words eluded Aranya. The last time she had strayed from her path hadn’t ended well. What were the ramifications of this daring proposal? What would she tell her parents? Would she hide it? If not, what would they say? Would they burn her? Mutilate her? Or should she not tell them? Ever?

  ‘I don’t know what to say to this, Sir. You’re asking me to lie to my parents again. I’m not sure I can do that.’

  ‘I’m asking you no such thing. I am asking you to tell them everything.’

  ‘You’re joking, Sir. You don’t—’

  Aranya felt sick in the stomach just imagining the scenario. But then again, would it be so bad? Wouldn’t her father be happy to offload his burden on someone else who was willing to carry the responsibility?

  ‘I can’t promise you much, Aranya, but I do promise that I will put all the work that’s required to make this work. Persistence is one thing I have learnt from having spent years staring at unsolvable equations.’

  ‘I’m not an equation, Sir.’

  ‘You’re not, but love’s an equation. You put in the right variables and you win. Finally, your parents and you can breathe easy, mend your bridges; you can probably even show me off to your friends and cousins, that is if I’m not too old or nerdy,’ Raghuvir chuckled. ‘And we can work together on whichever project I work on. We will be a power couple in our field,’ said Raghuvir, his eyes lighting up.

  ‘I don’t know what to say about it, Sir. I’m overwhelmed.’

  ‘Did I say too much?’

  ‘No—’

  ‘I just thought you would be happy hearing this. Because that day . . .’ His voice trailed off and his shoulders drooped. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Why was she being difficult?

  ‘Of course I’m happy. I’m very happy,’ said Aranya.

  ‘Your face says something entirely different.’

  ‘It’s just that I’m overwhelmed at what you’re doing for me. It’s a lot to think about,’ said Aranya, rummaging through a million thoughts clamouring in her mind. After all, Raghuvir did call love an equation which you can manipulate to get the best results. Love was always supposed to mean passion, happiness, disappointment, depression, exhilaration, but in Raghuvir’s version of love, it meant comfort and convenience. Shouldn’t Aranya be happy with just that? Beggars can’t be choosers after all

  ‘You can take your time,’ said Raghuvir, and as if on cue he looked at his watch. ‘I need to go now. Three more kids to interview. Best of luck, Aranya.’

  ‘You too, Sir.’

  ‘Raghuvir.’

  Raghuvir patted Aranya, got up and left. Aranya felt all the questions drown out till just one of them bobbed to the surface, begging to be answered, the promise of acceptance and a new life, Raghuvir, with the uncertain possibility of love—Dhruv. In her heart, thinking about Raghuvir already meant betrayal of what she had begun to feel for Dhruv.

&nbs
p; She got up and walked towards the room, the ferocity of her feelings for Dhruv, hatred or love, fully hitting her. She saw the third boy leave the room for his interview.

  ‘Best of luck,’ she whispered to the boy. The boy didn’t answer and walked straight to the interview room.

  Aranya turned to the door behind which Dhruv sat.

  She would ask Dhruv, the only boy she now believed she had always been in love with, if he wanted her to stay with him or leave forever. It was time to see if the boy who fought for everything would fight for her. It was her last chance at the kind of love she wanted to experience.

  It was time for Dhruv to stand to the test. If Dhruv failed, Aranya would have to relegate herself to a life where love’s just another set of rules written on a paper, understandable, mediocre, compromised, dull . . .

  I Love u Rachu

  61

  Dhruv saw Aranya push the door open rather lazily after her conversation with Raghuvir, as if lost somewhere. To mask his concern he spat out angrily, ‘So do you have the job yet or not? Finally your sycophancy seems to have paid off, Aranya. Congratulations! You didn’t even have to interview.’

  Aranya didn’t answer. She walked slowly to her seat and sat down, her skirt crushed beneath her thighs. She fidgeted with her pen, opening the cap, closing it. Click. Click. Silence. Click. Click.

  ‘The interview of that boy is taking long, isn’t it?’ asked Dhruv after ten minutes of piercing, irritating silence.

  Aranya clenched her jaws and put on her poker face. She wouldn’t react, she told herself. She would keep the facts and choices open in front of Dhruv and wait for his reaction. ‘Raghuvir proposed to me. Sorta.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He said we could try being in a relationship,’ said Aranya, a little loudly, her voice still stripped of any expression, like a mean lawyer.