by Durjoy Datta
If Daman dared to break up with her, at least he would have his parents backing her up. Daman’s mother didn’t let her touch anything in the kitchen, so she just stood there, chatting. His mother was a good cook and an even better conversationalist. For a moment there, she almost thought she had never not been a part of this family. She helped his mother serve the food. The mood was generally light around the table and everyone laughed and joked quite a bit. Except Daman who alternated between being annoyed and awkward. Even the sister eased up when Avni offered to share her
Netflix password with her. She caught Daman alone while she was washing her hands after the lunch.
‘Are you still angry?’
‘No,’ said Daman, not meeting her eyes.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come,’ she said trying to elicit tears but they failed her.
‘Yes, you shouldn’t have.’
And then the tears came. He was looking away and it took him a few seconds to notice them.
When he did he took her in his arms and asked her what was wrong. The first tears were fake but the minute she was in his arms, the real tears came.
‘I felt insecure.’
‘What? Why?’ asked Daman. A flicker of recognition shined in his eyes. ‘Oh, because of what she said? Are you crazy?’
‘No. But she was right. I am dull, am I not? Maybe that’s why you didn’t want me to meet your parents.’
‘You couldn’t be more wrong, Avni. That girl is unhinged. You’re not. Why would you do this?
You could have just told me,’ explained Daman.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay, Avni,’ he said and kissed her forehead. He asked her to wash her face and fix herself before someone noticed them. ‘I don’t want them to think I’m a domestic abuser as well. I have a feeling they like you.’
She smiled.
A little later, Puchku dragged Avni to her room and showed her the new A Song of Ice and Fire book collection, complete with maps and a digitally signed letter from G.R.R. Martin. Puchku was impressed by how much Avni knew about G.R.R. Martin and Game of Thrones despite not having
read the books. Of course I know everything! I came prepared, Avni thought. Puchku tweeted about only two things—Game of Thrones and Harry Potter. Avni had stayed up and read up on both.
‘So you guys will get married, haan?’ asked Puchku excitedly after a bit.
‘It’s a little too early to say that.’
‘But why get married to my brother? He’s a bit of a loser compared to you, Di.’ She laughed so much she snorted. She apologized.
Di. Am I family? It warmed her insides a little. It was then that she noticed a framed picture of
Daman kept on the side table, right next to Puchku’s books on inorganic chemistry. In the picture,
Daman was heavily bandaged, his eyes open but blank.
‘That’s the day after he woke up,’ explained Ritu. ‘I keep it to remind myself how lucky we were to get Dada back. Dada didn’t even remember me when he first saw me. But slowly, things came back to him.’
‘It must be hard for you?’
Puchku nodded, eyes brimming with tears. ‘It was worse for Maa. The first couple of months after he woke up were trying. They diagnosed him with PTSD. Sometimes everything seemed to be creeping back to normal but suddenly a mention of the accident or even something random on television would undo days of progress, he would start getting seizures and lose all sense of time and space and people. Twice, he almost choked on his own saliva. They had to cut a hole in his neck.’
I know. I have seen the scars.
‘But now he’s okay,’ she said and touched the side table. ‘Touchwood.’
Avni smiled at her. A moment of silence passed between them before Avni asked, ‘So what do I call you? Ritu or Puchku?’
‘Puchku,’ she replied.
30
Radhika, Sukriti and Ananya were the three girls Daman had dated before Avni. He had held hands but not kissed Radhika, had kissed but hadn’t had sex with Sukriti, and had lost his virginity to
Ananya. But it wasn’t until Daman had met Avni that he knew how powerful and intimate sex could be. The ferocity with which Avni approached sex was something Daman had never experienced before. Despite her naivety, everything was just perfect—the moans, the scratches, the little touches, the longer licks, the orgasms. He would never forget the first time he had made her come.
It was quick and thunderous. Her body had reacted like she was being exorcised. Even now, she took up the responsibility of making herself come using him, guiding him. She led sex. Today, they had jumped right into bed after lunch at his parents’ apartment. Avni’s eagerness had been palpable. She had smelt of sex and desperation and blowjobs. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered repeatedly as she rode him. She does, Daman had thought. Avni had never been good with words and displays of affection. She had always relied on him picking up on signals which he did from time to time. But this—coming to his house unannounced and doing everything in her capacity to impress them—was the strongest hint he had picked up. She was really in love with him.
I love her too.
‘I fell asleep,’ said Avni, stirring up from her slumber. ‘Aren’t you sleepy? You look like you haven’t slept in days.’ She ran a loving finger over his face. ‘Is she bothering you?’
‘Not really.’
‘She hasn’t called again, right?’
‘And that’s troubling,’ he said as got up from the bed.
He walked around, pressing the side of his temples. ‘Isn’t that a little strange that she walked away so easily?’
‘Maybe she saw the sense in that.’
‘She’s the not the kind who would leave without as much as a goodbye.’
‘Are you missing her now?’ scoffed Avni. Daman rolled his eyes. She continued, ‘Daman, sit down. We got what we wanted, right? She’s off our backs.’
‘She’s not off our backs, I’m sure of that. She was stalking me, working me like a puppet and now she just gives up? How’s that possible? There’s something not right here,’ urged Daman.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Wait, I will show you something.’ Daman opened a drawer and pulled out a bunch of a papers.
He gave one of them to Avni. ‘Ananya’s break-up or the detention wasn’t the only time she’s interfered in my life,’ he said. ‘Read this.’
‘This is to inform you that I wouldn’t be able to be join your company. The salary you offered during campus interviews was below my expectations and an insult to my talent. I won’t be able to join your company. Please don’t bother sending me the Letter of Joining. Regards, Daman.’
‘This is a mail I sent to Larsen & Tourbo turning down their offer.’
‘Shreyasi sent this mail, not you?’
‘Precisely. Because they would have posted me in Mumbai and not Delhi. And this is not the only one. She has been deleting mails from readers who don’t like Shreyasi,’ said Daman.
Avni frowned. ‘You haven’t changed your password for three years?’
‘I just change a digit or add a letter when I have to. And how does it matter? She has been looking over my shoulder since forever.’
‘But if she were reading your mails, why didn’t she read the manuscript when you sent it to
Jayanti?’ asked Avni.
‘I think she was trying to hold out, build up the excitement. Maybe she didn’t want to spoil it by reading the unfinished book. She wouldn’t have expected I would butcher the character in the book. Maybe that’s why she had been so angry. She had slipped.’
‘This is so screwed-up.’
‘That’s why I think she’s going to be back,’ said Daman.
They sat for the next few hours fruitlessly brooding. They caught up on Netflix but neither of them had their mind in it. Soon, it was time for Avni to go home. ‘Don’t worry. We will figure out a way,’ she said as Daman locked the door to his apartment. She ki
ssed him. He wrapped an arm around her. As they reached the ground floor, they saw a lot of people rushing outside the apartment complex, talking excitedly amongst themselves.
‘What is it?’ wondered Avni.
They joined the rest of the people as they poured out of the apartment buildings. The minute they stepped out of the building complex a wave of heat hit them. Instinctively, Daman grasped Avni’s hand. They jostled through the crowd to the source of the commotion. The heat wave intensified.
And as they crossed the last few files of the crowd, Daman noticed something burning. It was not long before he realized it was a car on fire, flames licking at everything, burning through paint and metal. The fire was dying now. The car was slowly being reduced to a blackened shell. Sirens blew in the background. Avni jerked her hand free. She gasped. Her eyes widened and she let out a silent shriek. She looked at Daman. That’s when it hit him. Daman’s stomach sank to his feet.
‘It’s my car!’ thought Daman. He passed out soon after.
31
‘It’s common in people who have suffered PTSD. It’s not a full relapse though. Take the medicines and you will be as good as new in a couple of months. Just make sure you stay away from scenarios that possibly put too much stress on your mind, or anything that mimics the accident, okay?’ the doctor said.
‘I’m not planning to see my car burn for the third time, doctor,’ joked Daman.
Avni didn’t see the humour in it. She was still shaken from what she had witnessed in the last three terrifying days. The doctor signed Daman’s discharge papers and they took his leave. Since the time Daman had collapsed and had been rushed to the hospital, he had had two seizures, three panic attacks and a few instances of lapsed memory. While the receptionist readied Daman’s bills,
Avni said, ‘I still think we should tell your parents. Or at least Sumit.’
‘Telling Sumit is the same as telling my parents,’ he said. ‘They are already anxious about
Puchku’s upcoming exams, I don’t want them to worry even more. I’m fine now. You’re making too much out of it.’
‘Too much? I saw you wake up in a wet bed twice. TWICE! I have never been so scared.’
‘It’s okay—’
‘It’s NOT OKAY! I saw your body shake and tremble . . . I thought . . . I was so angry I couldn’t help you. You were right there in front of my eyes and . . . I was . . . so helpless.’
‘That’s why people study for a decade and become doctors so people like you don’t have to help.’
Avni handed the file over to the nurse at the reception and turned to hug him. ‘What if the next time it’s worse?’
Avni cried in his arms. Daman assured her. ‘It won’t be. Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? I don’t have a car to burn down.’
They took a cab back to Daman’s apartment. He stopped by his car for a moment, now reduced to a black and grey heap of metal, and frowned.
Avni held his hand and said, ‘The doctor asked you not to stress yourself. And I’m not losing you over a car. The insurance will cover most of it so stop worrying about it.’ She led him away from the rubble.
While Daman had been away, Avni had called a professional cleaning service and got the house scrubbed. The curtains were also changed to a brighter colour.
‘It looks like a dollhouse,’ said Daman. ‘But in a good way.’
‘Chai?’
‘Sure,’ said Daman and followed Avni to the kitchen. He lit a cigarette but she wrenched it out of his hands and put it out.
‘What?’ Daman protested. ‘There’s absolutely no correlation between smoking and PTSD.’
‘And we are not going to prove otherwise,’ said Avni and put the water to boil.
Later he helped her pour the tea into the two new cups she had bought. They took their cups to the living room.
‘I’m calling Jayanti tonight,’ he said. ‘After the hospital bills . . . anyway, I will try to get a better signing amount. It will be a little tight but I will be fine. Those guys at the online magazine have been after my life to write for them. I will take that offer up.’
‘You should have let me pay the hospital bill,’ she said. ‘Have you thought about other publishers?’
‘I don’t want to. At least Jayanti is a known devil,’ said Daman in a defeatist tone. ‘I want to just sign this and get back to writing the book. I will take up a few writing assignments on the side.’
I just want to hug him and make all of this go away, she thought. ‘Sure, whatever you think will make you happy,’ said Avni.
‘You sound like my mother now.’ He chuckled.
Avni smiled. ‘How much time do you think the insurance guys will take to reimburse the money?’ asked Avni.
‘At least five months from what I know. I will have to check the papers though.’
‘Don’t buy a car when they pay you back!’
‘Of course,’ said Daman and chuckled. ‘Once burnt, twice shy. Twice burnt, never again.’
A little later, it was time for Avni to go to work. She didn’t want to leave. She hadn’t been to work for three days and there was only so much work she had done sitting in Daman’s hospital room while he squirmed and sweated and trembled. ‘I will see you tomorrow,’ Avni said.
‘I would have dropped you but—’
‘We will buy a new car in time,’ said Avni. She saw Daman get up and said, ‘I will go. You just lie down and get some rest. I love you.’
Just as she opened the door, she found an envelope lying outside, gathering dust, which they had not noticed on their way in. She picked it up.
‘What is it?’ Daman asked.
‘It’s a letter,’ she said.
She strained the envelope against the light and tore it open carefully. Inside there was printed copy of the insurance deed of the Daman’s car. On it, a message in red ink was stencilled.
I HAD TO, BABY. I HAD NO CHOICE.
Daman and Avni noticed it at the same time. The insurance of Daman’s car had expired the day before the car caught fire.
32
Two hours had passed since they opened the envelope. Avni had called her office and deferred her meetings.
‘You should go. There’s nothing you will achieve sitting here,’ said Daman.
‘I can’t leave you like this.’
‘I will be fine!’ snapped Daman.
‘We should go to the police. This is getting out of hand.’
‘With what? What proof do we have? This!’ He waved the insurance deed of his in his hand.
‘Who’s going to believe our story?’ He shook his head. ‘I knew we hadn’t seen the last of her, I knew it!’
As if on cue, Daman’s phone beeped. It was a text from Shreyasi. COME ONLINE ON SKYPE.
GET AVNI TOO.
‘Don’t do it,’ argued Avni. ‘The doctor asked you to—’
‘And do what? Hide? For how long? She burnt down my fucking car!’
He logged on to Skype on his laptop and found a request from Shreyasi.
‘Record everything,’ said Daman.
Avni placed her phone at a distance with the video recording on.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
Daman called her. Three rings later, Shreyasi picked up. At first her video was pixelated but it cleared out slowly. Shreyasi smiled at them. She had earphones on and was entering the metro.
She said with a bright smile, ‘Look who’s here. The liar and the bitch. Before we start this conversation, I need both of you to switch off your phones.’ Daman and Avni looked at each other.
‘What are you waiting for? Quickly now,’ urged Shreyasi.
Both of them did as instructed.
‘Why did you burn the car down?’ asked Daman.
‘God! Look at those curtains behind you,’ remarked Shreyasi. ‘I expected better out of you,
Avni.’
‘Why did you burn the car down?’ he asked again.
Behind her, t
he announcement rang aloud. She paused for it to stop. ‘The next station is Rajiv
Chowk. The next station is Rajiv Chowk. Please mind the gap. Please mind the gap.’
‘Avni? What would you do if someone calls you terrible? Or a crackpot? Or psychotic?’ asked
Shreyasi. ‘You called me all of these, didn’t you?’
‘You followed us?’ gasped Avni. She knew I was on the other table. She followed us after she pretended to have left!
‘I only did what you did to me, Avni,’ said Shreyasi. ‘Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you sitting on the next table eavesdropping on my conversation with Daman? I had spent a year sitting
in that coffee shop for my baby. I know it like the back of my hand. So yes, I followed you once both of you left the coffee shop, hand in hand, gossiping about me and calling me names.’
Avni composed herself and said, ‘You had no right to burn the car down! That’s a criminal offence!’
‘Creeping into my book trying to take my place, changing the curtains of my baby’s flat, that’s more of an offence.’
‘Why the fuck did you burn the car down?’ grumbled Daman, slamming the table.
‘Revenge,’ snapped Shreyasi. ‘And don’t ever use that tone with me, baby.’
‘That cost me money!’
‘The insurance will cover all of it,’ said Shreyasi.
‘It expired and you fucking know that,’ said Avni.
Shreyasi looked at Daman and said, ‘Ask your whore not to talk to me like that.’
‘Whatever,’ Avni retorted and walked away from the computer screen.
‘That bitch has a lot of attitude, baby,’ scoffed Shreyasi. ‘Yes, I knew the insurance was getting over. Remember the day you went for the party at Olive when I drove you home and you were too knackered to remember the next day. The day you found your books burnt? I might have drugged your drink a little bit.’
‘You did what?’ asked Daman.
Avni got up and shifted close to the laptop screen.
‘Rohypnol, I roofied your drink. I really wanted to be the first one to read the book!’ she exclaimed. ‘Anyway, out of habit, I clicked pictures of all your documents. Car registration card, pollution check, the works. I never thought I would need them but let’s just call it a happy coincidence that I did.’