Half Torn Hearts

by Novoneel Chakraborty

  ‘Good. Just give me a minute,’ she went into the en-suite bathroom.

  Afsana took an impromptu day off from work and coaxed Nirmaan into postponing his business meeting. They spent the entire day, evening and night talking about the past. About Raisa. About Nirmaan’s memories of her in Guwahati. About Afsana’s memories of her in Kolkata. About how Raisa had supported him through his every-day struggles in Bhubaneswar. It was then that Afsana realized how easy it was to become a man’s fantasy queen. But to soldier on beside someone for over a decade . . . it sounded amazing to her.

  After a late dinner, when Nirmaan had retired to bed, Afsana telephoned Dipannita from her room.

  ‘You better be free now. I need to talk,’ she said.

  ‘I was anyway getting bored with my aunts badgering me about starting a family, so I’m all yours, darling. Tell me, what’s up?’

  ‘Nirmaan is in the other room,’ Afsana said with childlike fervour.

  ‘OMG! Do you mean Nirmaan is in your flat?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You guys—’

  ‘Lived together today,’ Afsana could feel a sense of peace pervade her being.

  ‘Don’t tell me you guys did it?’

  ‘No, we didn’t.’

  ‘Achcha? You two in the same flat all day long, and you guys didn’t do it? Please!’

  ‘We did not do it.’

  ‘Not even a kiss?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay and I’m Mother Teresa,’ Dipannita scoffed.

  ‘Shut up and listen. I’ve other important things to tell you.’

  ‘Shoot, I’m listening.’

  ‘I cooked for him, did his laundry and also helped him shave.’

  ‘Shave what?’

  ‘His beard, stupid. Now just listen, don’t interrupt. I feel like I’ve achieved nirvana at long last. I’m not the subservient sort, but I chose to be one today. I mothered him although we are the same age. When he was taking a bath, I wanted to barge in and soap and shampoo him. I didn’t, but I wanted to. I’ve collected the cigarette butts of all the cigarettes we smoked as we reminisced. I’ll string them together and use them as a bookmark for my personal diary. While I was in the kitchen, he stood by the door simply watching me. His eyes on me . . . I can’t explain how sexy it felt. The talks satisfied my soul, but the silences in between were simply orgasmic. His sheer presence, however quiet, was making me wet. Only I know how I controlled myself.

  ‘I noticed a mole on his shoulder. I wanted to scribble a few words before to make the mole a natural full stop. There was an instance late in the evening when we were standing in the balcony. We just stood there looking at each other. I don’t know about him, but I wouldn’t have minded if he had ripped off my clothes and taken me like an animal. If he had done so, he wouldn’t have just stripped me of my clothes, he would have stripped my body as well to free my soul. Just before dinner, he read all my poems out loud. As he read, I kept staring at him. The words were the same but the meanings seemed different. The life was the same, the living seemed different. I think when he finished reading, he wanted to kiss me. I don’t know why he didn’t.

  ‘While we laughed about the stupid things we did in our past, I wanted to hold him and cry. Just cry. No reason why. I wanted my tears to dry on his skin and become a part of him. Like he is a part of me.’ Afsana let go of a relaxing sigh.

  ‘Can I say something now?’ Dipannita cut in sounding a little tense.

  ‘Yes, now you can.’

  ‘What are you doing really? On the one hand you’re shopping for your trousseau and on the other you are getting excited like a teen because Nirmaan is in your flat? Aren’t you seeing the obvious or are you deliberately ignoring it?’

  There was silence.

  ‘You there?’ Dipannita asked.

  ‘Yes,’ it was a soft confirmation.

  ‘Do consider what I’m saying right now, hun. Love and all are fine but you’re getting married real soon. Have you thought about what’s next? Are you going to invite Nirmaan to your wedding? Or get into an extra-marital relationship with him? If you’re thinking along those lines then, as your best friend, I would suggest you to back off. And back off right now. We’re adults. We’re more about the society than about our own desires. Tell me, have you had a talk with Shanay? What does he think about you and Nirmaan? And what’s your plan exactly?’

  Afsana was quiet. A moment later she said, ‘Let’s talk later.’ She hung up and switched off her phone. Dipannita was spot on, she realized. The terrible thing was Afsana had no answers to her questions. Her folks were unaware that Nirmaan was in her apartment. Of course, things couldn’t go on like this forever, however much she may desire it. Perhaps she knew this as well, deep inside, and was therefore trying to live a lifetime in this one day.

  Afsana went into the bedroom where Nirmaan was sleeping. She interlaced her fingers with his and rubbed his hand on her face gently. She was so busy revelling about getting Nirmaan back into her life that she forgot that she needed to find ways to make sure he remained in it. And not as an extra-marital affair, but as the one single, genuine and only relationship she could ever have with a man. For that she would have to talk to Shanay. And real soon.

  CHAPTER 11

  Shanay, along with his mother, Afsana and her mother were in PC Chandra Jewellers on Elgin Road to select the rings that the bride and groom would exchange before the wedding ceremony. With the short notice, a lot of the itinerary had telescoped for the families. Afsana had messaged Shanay to meet her privately but he had responded with a blunt no. She understood that he was prepared to talk to her only after they were safely shackled to each other. After selecting the rings, the ladies decided to have lunch. Shanay drove everyone to Zing restaurant in Spring Club. The two mothers asked their kids to order and vanished into the ladies’ room. Shanay handed the menu to Afsana. She put it aside and said, ‘I’m sorry for the other day.’

  Shanay pretended to be busy on his phone and ignored her apology.

  ‘We need to call off this marriage, Shanay,’ she said. His eyes met hers. ‘Trust me, this marriage will not make either of us happy, ever. I’m telling you this because nobody will listen to me if I tell them I want to back off. But if you tell them, perhaps they will question you for a while, but eventually they’ll accept it. Shanay, I . . .’ her throat went dry and she sipped some water, ‘. . . beg you.’

  Shanay stared at her blankly and then chuckled.

  ‘Good. I like it. Keep begging.’

  Afsana could have dunked the water on his head but maintained her poise.

  ‘Why aren’t you getting it, Shanay? I don’t love you. I love Nirmaan. All I’m asking you is to tell everyone you aren’t interested. I’ll handle the rest. It’s not like you’re emotionally invested in me. We’ve known each other for only six months. Also, you could get any girl to marry you.’

  ‘Any girl? Why not the one with whom it’s already fixed?’

  ‘Why don’t you understand a simple thing?’

  ‘Perhaps you aren’t begging enough,’ Shanay said with a condescending smile.

  Afsana wanted to retort but by then the ladies were back from the powder room.

  ‘Did you guys order?’ Mrs Bansal asked.

  ‘Afsana is dithering, but I know exactly what I’ll have,’ he replied. Afsana was livid.

  After lunch she was dropped off at Deshbandhu Park where she would meet Dipannita at Café by the Lane while Shanay drove their mothers home.

  Dipannita joined her soon.

  Their order came promptly—Wanna Whole Lotta Love—and was placed in the centre of the table. Dipannita helped herself to a scoop. ‘Did you imagine that Shanay would tamely agree to your scheme?’ she scoffed. ‘No guy would.’

  ‘I don’t understand his fixation in getting hitched to me. He can’t come to terms with my past with Nirmaan but he still wants to marry me. Why?’

  ‘It’s a conquest for him now. Had it been nothing, he
would’ve backed off the moment he saw that picture of you and Nirmaan,’ replied Dipannita.

  Afsana toyed with the spoon but ate nothing of the dessert.

  ‘Nothing can be done to back away from the wedding. Just accept it and instead of talking to Shanay, talk to Nirmaan. He seems more mature. He will understand and stay away from the two of you. Everyone and everything will be sorted satisfactorily that way,’ Dipannita added. But her friend was gaping at the dessert totally lost.

  ‘Just talk to Nirmaan today, all right?’ Dipannita reiterated.

  ‘You’re right. He wants to marry me because he wants to win an imaginary battle against Nirmaan. That’s more important for him right now. His male ego has been challenged after I blasted him the other night. So, he will be a stubborn ass now even if it means his decision may destroy three lives.’

  ‘Blasted Shanay? Gosh, when did that happen? What did you tell him?’

  ‘Chuck it. What he doesn’t know is he has taken this ego-fight up with the wrong person. If it’s really a conquest for Shanay, then I’ll beat him at it once and for all,’ Afsana said through clenched teeth.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ Dipannita asked, her spoon halfway to her lips.

  ‘Cheque, please,’ said Afsana, snapping her fingers to the man at the till; to Dipannita she said, ‘let’s go.’

  CHAPTER 12

  Afsana dropped off Dipannita and drove to Salt Lake. She picked up Nirmaan from an engineering college, and drove back to her apartment. Nirmaan sounded excited about the prospects from his business meeting—he seemed to have found an opening to help him spread his start-up to Kolkata’s academia.

  ‘You’ve no idea how much I missed Raisa today,’ he said.

  ‘Did you guys go to business meetings together?’ she asked as soon as they were ensconced in the balcony with steaming mugs of coffee.

  ‘In the beginning, yes. Then she took over the kitchen section while I concentrated on the business,’ Nirmaan replied. His phone buzzed and he talked for a minute before hanging up.

  ‘My tickets are done.’

  ‘Tickets?’ Afsana sounded genuinely surprised.

  ‘Back to Bhubaneswar for a few days and then I’ll return to Kolkata. I’ll shift the company here.’

  ‘Are you running away from Raisa and her memories?’ she asked.

  Nirmaan nodded. ‘I’m staying away from what her memories can do to me. Come what may I don’t want the company to suffer. It was her dream as well. I feel more responsible now.’

  She flashed a smile at him, appreciating his noble dedication.

  ‘When are you going to Bengaluru?’ he asked.

  ‘Bengaluru?’ She glanced at him and realized he couldn’t ask the obvious: when was she getting married. She took her time to answer. But it was with a question.

  ‘Tell me, Nirmaan, what after I get married?’

  ‘As in? I didn’t get you.’

  ‘What about us after I get married?’ she rephrased.

  Their eyes met and she looked away first. The sky was overcast.

  ‘I want to remain with you always, but the love I have for you tells me that since you’re the one getting married, you get to decide this “what about us” thing.’

  ‘What if I say I want to stay away from you?’ she pursued, still unwilling to look at his face.

  ‘I would say you won’t be able to,’ he replied glancing at her profile.

  ‘What if I say I want to have an illicit, extra-marital liaison with you?’ she asked.

  Nirmaan sipped his coffee and moved to stand directly in front of her.

  ‘We’ve taken years, but we’ve always maintained the sanctity of our relationship. It’s unique. Two people who reunite after thirteen years and still haven’t gotten over the other. I agree that some of it has been destiny, but I’m sure you’ll agree that some of it has been our choice as well. We chose to belong to each other.’

  ‘So, what’s your answer?’ Now she looked straight at him.

  ‘D’you know why it’s special? Because it’s rare. Let’s not make it just another sordid “relationship”. I’m not judging anybody. It’s just that I’m not comfortable meeting with you after you’re married. I would always feel guilty if I became the reason for you to be shunned or scorned by the people you will live with. I can’t allow that. I can’t let either of us be the reason or excuse for society to sling mud on our relationship or on your character. I won’t be able to take it.’

  Afsana could have kissed him right then, but beamed at him instead. She got the answer that she had been fishing for.

  After dinner, Nirmaan went to his room to work on a PPT while Afsana went to hers and sat still on a chair. She heard the sound of rain outside. The next moment she felt a hand on her back. She turned to see Nirmaan.

  ‘Let’s go to the terrace,’ he said.

  Nirmaan stopped at the terrace door, looking at the lock in disappointment. Afsana smirked, slid out a bobby pin from her hair and jimmied the lock in a matter of minutes.

  ‘Locks were never an issue for me.’

  As they pushed open the door, they realized it was bucketing down. They stepped on to the terrace, with no umbrella. Nirmaan sat on the low cement wall across the terrace. Afsana sat beside him uncaring that they were both completely drenched.

  Nirmaan looked at the city’s skyline and said, ‘Years ago Raisa and I had sat on a terrace under an umbrella. Life was so simple then and . . .’ He felt Afsana clasp his hand. He looked at her.

  ‘Can you make such love to me, Nirmaan, that after we are done I feel stronger than I am right now?’ she asked. The next second his lips were on hers. Their eyes were closed. The moment their lips parted, a hunger was unleashed. A hunger whose face was, perhaps, lust, but whose soul was a deep longing that had been pent up within them for a long time. He cupped her face as he kissed her. She held him. Caught up in the rapture of their kiss, neither realized that the torrential rain had diminished to a drizzle. He was about to say something when she put a finger on his lips and said, ‘Don’t say a word and make me feel it’s all real. I want it to be a dream. Take me home. And . . . take me.’

  Nirmaan grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. She didn’t know he had such strength when outwardly he looked so gentle. In no time, they were inside the apartment. As soon as the door clicked shut, they looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Their breathing grew heavier with every passing second. He lowered his face and gently rubbed his lips against hers before flicking his tongue over its contours. He shifted her in his embrace to kiss her nape. Goosebumps rose all over her. Afsana guided his hand to her drenched shorts. Nirmaan slowly slipped his hand inside and caressed her clitoris through her panties. He could feel her stiffen as he rubbed her. His eyes were on her face but her eyes were shut as she revelled in his lovemaking.

  When Afsana couldn’t take it any more, she shoved him away. Nirmaan staggered. In one fluid motion she divested herself of both, her shorts and her panties. Nirmaan flipped her around, pinned her to the wall and pressed himself against her back. The bulge in his trousers was rubbing against her bare butt. He gently nibbled her shoulder, licking the raindrops off her skin as his hands helped get rid of her tee. In a flash he unhooked her bra. The next moment, Afsana stood naked before him. He cupped her breasts in his palms while his thumbs caressed the erect nipples gently. She squirmed a little to turn around in his arms and looked into his eyes that were ablaze with passion. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so aroused that her knees gave way. She simply let herself go in Nirmaan’s capable hands. The suddenness of it startled him and he stumbled. They both collapsed in a heap on the floor. Her long hair, still very wet, brushed his face. He could feel her breasts crushed against his chest. Afsana sat up, looking into his eyes, and coaxed his tee up. She caressed the hair on his chest lovingly and kissed his chest once. Then twice. And then multiple times until he caught her face and claimed her lips again. He helped Afsana undo his tr
ousers and slipped out of his shorts.

  ‘Affu—’ he started, when Afsana stopped him.

  ‘Sshh.’

  Nirmaan sat up with Afsana straddling him. Holding her intimately, he gazed up at her. She gazed down into his eyes. Their breaths fused together as their lips met. Nirmaan slowly shifted and placed her beneath him. He stretched her arms wide and kissed each of her fingers, sucking them, then the palm, then he moved up her arm worshipping every inch of her skin. Every kiss seemed like a love letter that he held within him, but could never post to her earlier. Before she could read one, there was another. And another. And yet another. Nirmaan’s lips traversed every possible inch of her. He wanted to kiss her more but she held him at bay with an unspoken command in her eyes. He obeyed. Nirmaan entered her. Afsana’s lips parted with pain as her eyes rolled up in pleasure. After that all she remembered was the sound of his breathing in her ears as he held her tight and continued with his thrusts. When she caught his eye again, she was mesmerized and couldn’t look away. It was like their eyes were holding a conversation of their own.

  I don’t believe this is happening, his eyes said.

  Neither do I, her eyes responded.

  How will I survive without you after coming this close?

  Maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we came close for a reason and perhaps we were supposed to be together from here on.

  I hate maybe. Tell me we will.

  We will.

  Scream it out that we will.

  WE WILL.

  WE WILL.

  He finally collapsed on her. His weight on her made her feel incredibly powerful.

  Afsana’s eyes fluttered open after a couple of hours. Their naked bodies were still intertwined on the floor. She could feel his breaths on her forehead. She freed herself, careful not to wake him up and walked naked into her room. She sat at her desk and opened her diary again. She sighed and completed the half-written verse.

  Zamane se chupke,

  Ek band kamre mein,

  Parde kheech ke,

  Bistar pe beeche chadar ko kuchalke,