Schoolmates

by Latika Sharma

  I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “There has always been one, only one man in her life Kabir. It never was Vikram.” Anjali said finally.

  “But . . . she left me?” I was not coherent or aware of when I slumped down in the balcony. Riya had said that love wasn’t enough! She had said she din’t want me the way I was . . . she had left me.

  “Yes she did. She left you. But don’t you get it? She did it for your own good Kabby! You stuck to her like Velcro! She knew it, I knew it . . . even your mom! You never saw anything beyond that girl. All days and all nights, you just dreamt of her, being with her, playing with her . . . that was what frightened her! You would never have become independent or work towards a career had she stuck around. You were a perpetual love held boy who was refusing to become a man! Someone had to jolt you. And that’s what she did! Though the shock of it nearly killed her too. You think she did it because her old man asked her to? No way sweetheart! She did it because she loved you so very much!”

  I couldn’t believe her, yet it sounded so perfectly correct now!

  I recall my mother meeting Riya many times during our board examination. Our centre for the exam was at a distance from our school, so she would drop me and then pick me from there. Anjali’s mom brought Riya along. I always felt glad mom liked Riya. It appears now that she had apparently spoken a lot to Riya.

  All this while I had convinced myself that it was her father who had built the wall between us. He must have threatened her or something, I always thought. She must have had no choice. It never struck me that this break-up could actually be her self-generated idea, whose foundations were laid by our parents. I was so hurt that it went unnoticed that Riya had not come to the school to see the result for her board exam. She was in some hospital! I felt like an idiot standing in front of Anjali. How could I have not seen it? How could I misjudge her intentions? Just because she said so? Was it that easy? I knew she was talented at speech, why then did I not realise that all she said that fateful day was rehearsed?

  “Go Kabby! Make something of yourself, and then come seek me. We need time away from each other!”

  “No Riya! Don’t do this! I will die without you!” “Oh please Kabby! Don’t be so melodramatic! No one dies without anyone these days.”

  “I will! I love you so much! I can do all that here with you. My studies, you can study whatever you like, just stay with me!! Please don’t leave or ask me to do the same. I won’t damn it!”

  “No. You have to leave. I need to be alone Kabir, I need to make something of myself as Papa says. There are other important things in life!”

  “More important things? More than me? Us?” I was almost in tears.

  “Yes! Go now. Leave me please. Dad was right, you will see no sense! Don’t come after me. I need to make something of myself Kabby . . . and so do you. I do love you, you don’t seem to realize how much!”

  “Tell me Riya, what is the matter? That day, on our farewell, you were a different person. I may be a fool in studies compared to you but I know what it felt like when . . . when you kissed me. It was not a sham I know. It was real. If you love me that much, then why? Why are you doing this now? Tell me what I did wrong and I will correct it.” I pleaded clasping my hands together.

  “There . . . see. You said it again, what do you mean you will correct it? How can you when you don’t even realise what is amiss! Kabir, you cannot follow me everywhere. I will go in a separate direction and as my father said rightly, you have no direction so far. Love is not enough. Our school is over, and the real world awaits us. I have plans and . . .”

  “And I don’t fit into your plans now, isn’t it? Just because your dad said so . . . so all this was a joke?” I was angry at her, bleeding from the searing wound she had just inflicted.

  “Don’t say that Kabby. Please understand, my parents are important too, just as yours are. You need to make something of yourself. Be a man in your own rights. I have promises to keep to my folks you know, I can’t back out.”

  “And me? Sure I never asked any promise from you but . . . was it necessary that I should have made you say it? Wasn’t what we shared enough? What more was needed to convince you how strongly attached I was to you? A stamp paper, with sign of three witnesses?” I felt stupid. Why was she being so callous?

  “I’m sorry Kabir. There is nothing that I can say to you. Forgive me, if you can.” Riya spoke slowly quibbling her words.

  And she had turned away and walked out of my life. I had missed seeing her frantic sobs, missed seeing her slump in Anjali’s arms after turning the bend in the road, missed seeing her cry. I did not call her or take note that no one spoke of her to realise something was wrong with her.

  I was too transfixed; horrified that I had not seen how it had killed her that day to turn away from me.

  “As much as I hate saying this, I want you to go and stop this stupid marriage from happening or else this time she will . . . die!” Anjali said walking towards me. I gripped her arm tightly. The word had ignited a fire in my body. Riya and death . . . never in the same sentence.

  “I know . . . I have always known Kabir. I kept denying, that was my folly, my possessiveness for my friend, maybe a woman thing, I don’t know. But, I knew . . . Yes! I knew always. You two are meant for each other. She is madly in love with you. So go. Go and make my friend happy. She needs you. And by the look of it . . . you need her equally.” She motioned towards my stubble.

  I smiled at her. She really was Riya’s best friend.

  “Anjali . . . thank you for making this so easy for me. I assure you Riya will not cry anymore. Ever . . . as long as I have a single breath in me. She is mine. And will always be mine . . . and now . . . I am going to hug you!”

  And I did. Anjali din’t push me, just whispered, ‘Thank god you are back Kabby, now let’s go!’

  I swung my car within five minutes of leaving my flat.

  CHAPTER-24

  As I slipped in and out of consciousness, I realized I was lying on the road; in some parking lot, perhaps. There were big things around me. My head was spinning and a familiar broken or dislodged jaw pain was searing through my skull. Someone was bent over me, calling my name. Was it Riya? No. It wasn’t her.

  Then someone picked me up and things came into view. I was in a parking lot. Riya’s parking lot. Anjali was hovering over, calling my name. I looked around; Vikram was bleeding from a cut on his lip. His eye was swelling fast and he held his arm at a precarious position that suggested that I had managed to give him a hairline fracture at least.

  He deserved it!

  I knew I did not want to hit Vikram. I had promised Riya I would not start a fight again, without any serious provocation. All these years I had kept that promise. But today . . . Vikram had pushed me over the edge. I mean, seriously pushed me over it. I felt . . . exhilarated when I landed that first punch. My muscles felt light,buoyant, my mind was clear and despite the fact that I had an audience . . . I felt great beating the crap out of Vikram.

  And definitely, he deserved it!

  After I had spoken to Anjali, the next thing was obvious. I drove down to Riya’s place to meet her, encounter the situation come what may. Anjali had come along; we both thought it was a good idea. I knew I would need one person to support me amid her family, especially her infuriated old man.

  En-route Anjali filled me on all that had occurred yesterday. Vikram had come home, angry as a bull that had seen red. Riya was quiet when her dad asked what had happened. Finally Vikram had enquired from Riya,

  “Riya, who is Kabir?”

  A silence had followed in which Riya’s dad had tried to intervene, but Vikram had silenced him, looking only at Riya.

  “Vikram, it was a long time ago . . . we were friends,” Riya had not looked up.

  “Friends . . . ? It sure as h
ell did not look just friendship to me today. I may be subservient in matters of heart, but I’m not stupid. WHO IS Kabir?” Vikram asked angrily. Riya closed her eyes.

  “Ma’am . . . ma’am . . . calm down! Stop fighting me . . . it’s just your medicine!” the attending nurse was shouting. Riya was hysteric, in her hospital gown, shouting for Kabir!

  “Someone hold her down stat . . . we need her down, get that doctor now!” nurses were rushing past her. Someone had left sports channel on the television and Riya saw something that rewired her mind sending her mind with longing for Kabir. Shouts and screams had soon filled her room and heralded all the station nurses on the double.

  The doctor had come, administered some tranquilizer and she had slumped down delirious.

  “God! This girl! What is wrong with her . . . and who the hell is this Kabir?” the doctor had looked at his helpless nurses and then felt Riya hold his hand softly and say . . .

  “Kabir is the boy I fell in love with . . . the boy I love . . . the boy I love so much that I broke his heart . . . the boy who is made for me . . . the only one I want, the only one I have always dreamt of, the only one who I love. Kabir is the love of my life . . . he is me and my life, the air that I breathe . . . so tell me how I should live doctor . . . without air, without him?” Was it in her dream that she had said all this? Or was it simply a deja-vu.

  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 V
ikram!” 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.