When Only Love Remains

by Durjoy Datta

  ‘See? Now what’s funny?’

  ‘You would make a cute, six-year-old girl,’ says Avanti and pulls at Devrat’s cheek.

  ‘Stop it! People are looking. How did we decide we would talk like when people are looking? That you would talk about how big I’m in my briefs and how good am in bed! You should say that, not this “how sweet and cute you’re”! Be a responsible girlfriend and help me with my masculinity and my male ego,’ grumbles Devrat.

  ‘Fine. Fine.’ And then very dispassionately and loudly, Avanti says, ‘Oh! Devrat. You were so good in bed last night. And you’re so big. You’re the best lover I have had in years. All these people in the café should know how good—’

  ‘SHUT UP! You have to do it naturally. Okay, fine, don’t do it,’ says Devrat.

  The sun is about to set and the waiter comes and lights the little candle on their table.

  ‘Fancy,’ says Avanti.

  ‘That was planned.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Are you finished telling me why you’re in love with me so much? Am I to believe that you had only ten seconds of appreciative words for me? That’s sort of disappointing, Devrat. I’m starting to think that you make someone else write your songs.’

  ‘You’re such a brat,’ grumbles Devrat.

  ‘It’s not my fault that my boyfriend spoils me so much.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t he? You’re like only the best thing in the world. And I’m sure his life without you would suck. I’m confident, every time he wakes up in the middle of the night and sees you lying next to him, he panics for he thinks of days when you wouldn’t be around and he would regret that he didn’t celebrate the days you were around to the fullest. And that would majorly suck,’ explains Devrat. ‘For him.’

  ‘Yes, I know. He’s pretty sweet like that. I love him for that.’

  ‘It doesn’t end at that. Your boyfriend keeps talking to me about you. He told me he knew after the first conversation that he couldn’t let go of you. Believe me, he tried to stay away from you. You sat in a taxi, and he tried not to run after it like a homeless man begging for alms. You boarded a flight, and he tried not to board it, too. His first conversation lasted for three days and he still felt he had a lot to say.’

  ‘Does he love me that much?’ asks Avanti, her eyes welled up.

  ‘I think so. He panics every time he leaves you. He wonders if it would happen again, if you would talk to him again, if you would still smile after seeing him; if you would still laugh at his jokes, and ask him to sing your favourite song, if you would still make him hear his own songs, over and over again. He had half a mind to kidnap you, take you to his flat and chain you there. Your boyfriend is a little crazy in his head.’

  ‘And I like him for that,’ says Avanti.

  ‘Do you know what happened after your first date with him? The day he surprised you on the aircraft?’

  ‘I don’t know. He never told me. Devrat often keeps things to himself. Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know everything about him,’ says Avanti and rests her chin on her knuckles. Her skin glows from the candle light. God! She’s beautiful.

  ‘After your first date, he spent hours staring at his phone. The fucking anxiety, the helplessness, the fear, it crippled him during that flight back home and he felt like he would die without you. Like literally die. And he still talks to me about that anxiety. It’s there even after six months. I would get him to see a doctor but he says it’s incurable. The desperation to hold on to you for that extra few seconds still grips him on every goodbye and doesn’t subside till the next time he sees you. It’s been six months and he is still not used to your goodbyes. They are still fucking awful.’

  ‘I’m really sorry for him. Devrat is a bit of a clinger. He just never leaves me. If he’s such a good friend of yours, why don’t you make him understand that I need space too,’ lies Avanti and holds Devrat’s hand.

  ‘I don’t think anyone can make him understand that. Whenever I have tried telling him that Avanti needs space, and that he should back off a little, he reminds me of the time he came to Delhi and both of you had plans to go to Agra and you didn’t and you two made a little world for yourselves for those three days stuck in a room,’ says Devrat.

  ‘He has told you about that?’ asks Avanti.

  ‘Devrat never hides anything from me,’ answers Devrat, liking this entire game. He can, at least, tell her freely what he feels about her without sounding too gay to himself. ‘He told me about the three days both of you spent in your bed, at your place, with your father in the next room. He doesn’t remember how he kissed you during those three days, or how it happened, but he remembers the feeling, the perfection of it all. Although he has to admit, he was shaking in his pants, nervous that he might let you down. He told me you spoilt him by telling him how good a kisser he was. He started liking being told by you that he was a good kisser than actually kissing you.’

  ‘Seems like he’s quite in love with me, isn’t he? But what if some day I leave him? That can happen, right? Devrat has to be ready for that,’ argues Avanti.

  ‘He doesn’t believe that will happen. He believes in his love. He told me that Namita got you recommended for flying abroad but you gave it all up since it meant more flying hours and more time away from him. Had you wanted to leave him, you would have left him that very instant. He confessed that he shouted at you for letting go of the opportunity but he was happy that you chose to stick with him instead. Because frankly, he doesn’t know what he would do without you. He would be lost.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes. You save him from the world. You came when he was slowly disintegrating. You saved him and he owes everything to you. He was an abandoned puppy who you took care of.’

  ‘He does look like a puppy, doesn’t he?’

  It’s late and the joint is about to close down. The waiter gets them the bill and Devrat clears it. ‘Want to go for a walk?’

  ‘If only you keep telling me about what my boyfriend thinks about me,’ says Avanti.

  ‘How can I not? You, after all, are the prettiest. You’re photoshop-proof and that’s saying a lot.’

  They are walking through the empty, lit-up streets of Mumbai, turning into random corners, kissing, holding each others’ hands and hugging each other just like that.

  ‘Where are you lost?’

  ‘Just thinking.’

  ‘What?’ asks Avanti. ‘Let’s sit. I’m a little tired.’ And they sit on the pavement of a deserted in-road in Versova, Mumbai.

  Devrat continues, ‘How do you make me feel that there’s nothing more important than the two of us? Believe you me, I have systematically broken you down in parts and tried figuring out what I’m in love with. Is it that face that constantly beams happiness and warmth right to my heart? Is it that infectious laugh or those distractingly toned legs?’

  ‘I’m glad you noticed. I have been squatting with the world on my shoulders for the last few weeks and it had been insulting that you weren’t noticing any change.’

  ‘You’re killing my vibe, Avanti. This is the most romantic I have felt since the last Jennifer Lawrence movie came out and you’re talking about squatting.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You can continue talking about my toned legs,’ says Avanti and pretends to hold her ears.

  ‘This is precisely what I’m talking about. Is this why I like you? Because you’re funny, and find me funny as well? The list of questions is endless and the answer to every question is a thumping YES! So I have figured there’s no answer to why I really like you. There’s growing realization in my heart that you deserve someone better, someone who loves you much more than I do, but I sincerely hope you don’t find that someone and have to spend the rest of your life loving me,’ says Devrat.

  ‘I don’t think I need anything more than you.’

  ‘Not right now, you don’t, but
what about later? Will you always be in love with me? Arundhati, too, chose the easy way out.’

  ‘Arundhati was a bitch and I’m glad she was one. As for me, there’s not one thing I don’t love about you, Devrat.’ Devrat puts his arm across Avanti who disappears in her embrace. ‘Should we start walking to the hotel?’

  Just then, Devrat’s phone rings and it’s his mother. Devrat tells her that he’s still in Mumbai and he’s with Avanti. Devrat can almost sense his mother smile at the other end of the line. Devrat’s never been the perfect son, his career choices have been odd, he’s quite uncommunicative, but he has done one thing right—he chose the right girl.

  ‘Ma says “Hi” to you,’ says Devrat. Avanti waves at the phone in Devrat’s pocket and says, ‘Hi Aunty’. ‘You have no idea how much my parents dig you. Earlier they used to dread the very idea of coming to my apartment for it looked like a hooker’s den, but now they have no such qualms. It’s so pretty that it’s almost embarrassing to get my friends to visit me.’ Of late, little figurines from Orissa, murals from Kerala and flower vases have come to dominate his living space. Every time Avanti visits him, she comes with little souvenirs, she leaves the house a little prettier, as if it’s rubbing off her. ‘Also, it’s safe to say that my mother is absolutely smitten with you. Remember the first time you met her? My mother kept looking at you like you weren’t from around here.’

  ‘You’re exaggerating now!’ Avanti hits Devrat on his arm.

  ‘No, I’m serious. My mother kept telling me that you look Afghani! And then she asked me if you had a boyfriend. Remember that? She even asked you! I think she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that you were dating me. ME. Which is quite strange to me, as well, even after six months.’

  ‘Devrat, all this is so unfair. Why do you always have to say the right things?’ Avanti snuggles up to Devrat. They are still a long way from their hotel.

  ‘You deserve nothing less, Avanti.’

  ‘Oh shut up! I’m nothing what you make me out to be. I’m just another vain flight attendant,’ argues Avanti. It’s something that she does often these days. She derides herself so Devrat could say something sweet and mushy. It’s their little game and they never get tired of it. That’s what couples do, invent games that are only amusing to them.

  ‘Both of us know that the vain, over-done-up Avanti was what you wanted to project. But the real Avanti inside you is the one who never wants to change from the track pants, the short T-shirt and one who would rather stay at home, read comics, watch sob movies and sleep for eighteen hours. You love being lazy. I love how you excitedly make a plan, and then as the time comes, you progressively get lazier, start regretting why you made the plan in the first place, and then eventually cancel it. I LOVE THAT ABOUT YOU. ABSOLUTELY LOVE.’

  ‘But I’m sure you have dated better women,’ frowns Avanti. The little game is still on, and they have reached the hotel lobby. They sit by the poolside of the in-house restaurant and dip their feet into the cool water. The waiter asks them if they want to order anything, and just so they can sit there, they order lemonade.

  ‘Remember our first time?’ asks Devrat.

  ‘It was three months after we first met. I wonder why you waited so long to make a move. You made me really insecure. At points I felt a little unwanted,’ says Avanti.

  ‘You think I wanted to wait? Obviously not! But I didn’t want you to think why I wanted to be with you was because I wanted to sleep with you or anything. I didn’t want to spoil whatever we had on misplaced lust. And I was always a little scared to hurt you, and—’

  ‘I get it,’ says Avanti, her memories of being abused now long gone, buried. The fear, somehow, is now gone, and she feels protected in Devrat’s arms. She doesn’t know how he does it. And when he’s down, she just reminds him that he’s awesome by sending mails from those twenty accounts from which she used to (they had a big laugh when she told him she was ‘them’, the fans from Dehradun). They save each other.

  ‘But quite frankly, my memory of our first time is slightly blurred. Not the imagery, but what it felt like.’

  ‘What did it feel like?’ asks Avanti. The hotel’s restaurant is closing down now. The waiter asks them if they will still be sitting there and Avanti tells him it’s their second wedding anniversary, so the waiter lets them stay.

  ‘I don’t want to sound all horny, but I clearly remember how you dropped your dress on the floor and slipped into the bed next to me, how you let your fingers slip down to my chest and then lower still till you got to the button of my trousers . . . okay, I think I should stop because I’m turning myself on,’ chuckles Devrat.

  ‘Go on,’ prods Avanti.

  ‘The point is that I remember the mechanics of it, how we did it, where we did it, the grunts and the moans, and I’m sure it was awesome, but I don’t remember what I exactly felt in those moments. What I do remember is that it felt like . . . like I had everything in life, in a very deep, profound and sexy way. It was a little shallow to think, but when I stood tall after you had come, I did feel like such a stud. Like, you know, like I was the shiz or whatever that slang is.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  Devrat continues, ‘Though it was a little embarrassing with my paunchy, unfit body. If I were you and I saw it I would have dumped myself. “I like you naked,” is what you said after our first time and I was wondering if you had started doing drugs or something. I will never forget that sentence. It was so good for my ego, you have no idea,’ laughs Devrat.

  ‘But I do like you naked.’

  ‘God knows how. It’s the least flattering image I have ever seen. I would rather see pictures of a crime scene.’

  ‘Because I love you.’

  ‘And I love you. Do you want to go back to the room? And it’s not because all this naked talk has suddenly got me horny, but generally, although I have to admit I’m a little horny but you can’t blame me for that because it would be an insult to you if I were not. I’m slightly lost in what I really wanted to say, but that’s also not new because you do render me speechless quite often, which is strange as well because I should never be out of words, so I will just love you,’ says Devrat.

  ‘I got the last part.’

  They dry off their feet and start walking to their room.

  ‘Happy six months’ anniversary,’ says Avanti.

  They share a pizza while they watch television, having soaked themselves in a bathtub till their skin shrivelled up. They slip into the fresh, warm blankets and spend the night telling each other how much they love each other. Soon, they are kissing. A little later, spent, Avanti tells Devrat that he’s nothing like what she had expected him to be. ‘I never thought you would be such a child.’

  ‘You just slept with a child,’ quips Devrat.

  ‘Stop killing my vibe, now, Devrat.’

  ‘Fine. Go on.’

  ‘I like how you’re this lost boy with an evil mind.’

  ‘That’s an oxymoron,’ argues Devrat.

  ‘No it’s not. Sometimes you’re this boy who’s totally at sea, not knowing what to do, looking for me. And at others, you’re this sly boy who would cancel all movie plans, and make me read your favourite comic books, which I reluctantly read. Just so my father and I have something to talk about.’

  ‘That was an epic move. Another rare moment of extreme “studness”,’ says Devrat.

  ‘It sure was. I remember how you were quiet at the dinner table that night while my father and I fought about who would win in a battle of Superman vs. Batman. My father kept on insisting that all Batman needed was a water cannon of liquefied Kryptonite and Superman would be done. I don’t know who won that discussion but I have never seen my father in the same light ever since. We have conversations. We talk about you. And I can do that because he’s not really my father, he’s a friend. And there’s so much to catch up on. I love
you because you gave him to me. You should listen to what Nani says about you. She would get us married if you ever meet her. So, you know, stay away from her.’

  ‘Why would you think I would want to? I would love to get married to you and feel like a stud every night.’

  Avanti blushes at this. Soon, they are off to sleep.

  In the middle of the night, Devrat wakes up to find Avanti crying, sitting on the ground with her head buried in her knees, crouched. Devrat takes the blanket with him and wraps it around her and sit on the ground next to her. Avanti snuggles up to Devrat, who hums a medley, and she sobs freely. A little later she falls silent.

  ‘You want to talk about it?’ whispers Devrat into Avanti’s ears.

  ‘No. Just be with me. Save me today.’

  ‘You save me tomorrow.’

  Devrat nods and wraps his arms around her.

  Twenty-Two

  Avanti and Devrat complete a year today, and Avanti wants to make it special. Devrat’s a shy boy and he doesn’t like big parties and celebrations, so Avanti has resorted to what he likes the most—words. For the past one month, she has been trying to write a letter, something that encapsulates the year that passed by. The pages are streaked with corrections, and Avanti lets them be. That’s how he must like it, with the imperfections.

  She’s waiting in a hotel in Mumbai for Devrat’s flight to land.

  Quite nervous about how Devrat will react to the letter, she hasn’t had the courage to call him yet.

  Avanti starts to calculate the time it would have taken Devrat to deplane and the time the bus would take from the aircraft to the airport, collecting the baggage and getting here. He should have been here by now, Avanti thinks. But she smiles, thinking that Devrat must have stopped on his way to get something for her. They are completing their first year together, after all. She orders a soup and starts to distract herself. The clock ticks away and she’s a little worried now. Avanti calls on Devrat’s number but no one’s picking up the call. Devrat must have dozed off in the cab to the hotel, Avanti thinks, and starts to brush her hair.