A Stuttering Love Story - Part 2

TROUBLES THAT CAN'T BE WISHED AWAY (25th July)

In the next 2 weeks neither of us called each other. An occasional 'hi' in our common classes was the only interaction we had.

Then suddenly, after two weeks, I got a message from SB asking me if I wanted to go for a swim.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" was the first thought.

"She wants to see me naked." was the second thought, and it delighted me.

I had expired my swimming membership a few days ago, so I declined, but asked, if we could meet for dinner, which she agreed to.

For me, it was a signal that she wasn't as disinterested in me as she had shown earlier.

We had the dinner mostly in silence and set out for....take a guess....walk.

"I got drunk in the afternoon today, not as much as I wanted to." She told.

Hmmm...I nodded. Unsure about how to respond to it.

"What's happening in your life?" She asked.

"The usual bits of everything -novels, exercise, and yes, these days my friends and I are shooting cans with ball." I told. It was her turn to look incredulously at me.

We reached our usual vantage point and fooled around for a while.

She seemed to be outwardly cheerful that day. She showed me how to make a bridge with body, by throwing the hands backwards. Not to be outdone (and disregarding my rule about no exercise after meal) I showed her how to walk on hands. We were happy. No better time to set the record straight.

She was standing on the platform looking into the horizon, beyond city lights. I too climbed and stood beside her.

"Hey listen." I said, trying to get her attention.

"I am pretty bad at reading signals, so I think I should say it upfront."

"I want you to know that I still have feelings for you." the toughest 12 words I spoke in a long time.

"I had been attracted to you for a long time, and it's difficult for me to get over it."

A dreadful silence followed. She was weighing her words carefully.

"I have been in relationships before, and they has never ended well for me." She said in a wispy, almost cracking voice. She was on verge of crying.

"In fact, I had met the person I thought I would marry. Then I decided to come to this shithole place, and lost him. Forever. I still talk to him sometimes, but I won't ever get back with him," she went on.

"Why's that?" I asked, not really curious, but iffy about what to talk about.

"There are some problems that don't have any solution," she said, now actually crying. I thought that it would have been a perfect moment to have 'Rouya' playing in the background.

She was looking straight into the horizon and crying. I could just see her profile. Her kohl had dissolved in the tears, leaving a dark tear trail. Her nose ring shone in the moonlight. She looked so beautiful that I could have kissed her at that moment. But I stood breathless.

"I am sorry that you fell for the wrong girl," she said, rubbing her tears off with her arm, leaving behind a streak of kohl on her sleeve.

"I am not," I replied and somehow I meant it at that instant.

In midst of her tears, she let out a chuckle that I couldn't interpret.

I was pretty happy with myself, thinking that I had handled the situation quite tactfully. On our way back to hostel, I made a dreadful mistake that I wish I hadn't. I am still not sure how much it cost me later, but I think it was quite a lot.

Since SB was insistent that she couldn't be in a relationship, I told her that she was too precious to lose as a friend. My thinking was that I had been too direct when I approached her as a lover. Probably if I came across as a bearable friend, she would ease up to me, and I would graduate to lover subsequently. Foolish move I made.

EMBARRASSING DEEDS (26th July - 5th Aug)

The tearful stroll had warmed SB towards me. She began having lunch with me, whenever our classes permitted and chatted more than usual. Once when she won a bet with me, she wanted me to take her out for lunch and drinks. Was her aversion to dating melting??

To try my luck further, I did what sage used to do, get a girl to your room under certain pretense, like meal or dessert. I stocked a few chocolates and once after lunch, invited SB back to my room. She agreed and accompanied me, but seemed a little scared to enter my room.

The stunts I had been pulling in the corridor (bashing people on their birthdays, odd exercises) had earned me notorious nicknames like terrorist and madman, so her reluctance was understandable. Even when she entered, she seemed to be in a jiffy. Not bothering to sit, she made the usual noises about how chocolate will make her fat, as if I was shoving it down her throat. As soon as she was done with the chocolate, she hurried back, leaving me perplexed.

It was during this time that my behavior started deviating from usual. When my friends tried to usurp the chocolates I had been stocking, I barked, "Bhenchodon, bandi ke liye rakhi hui hain yeh (Sister fuckers, I am saving these for the girl)." Now this came from a person who never made any distinction between his stuff and his friends'. Fortunately the fuckers took it in a good stride, and commented, "Bandi aadmi se kya kya karwa deti hai (The things women make men do...)."

That same night, I was practicing shots (shooting cans with a tennis ball- a game that keeps our dumbasses busy for half a day) with Ganya (the best shooter in the campus). I was in my usual attire - only shorts. My clothing habits have been formed on territorial psychology - i.e. in my territory (hostel block), I am permitted to wear whatever I want. The fact that other people were using the same corridor had stopped bothering me long ago. They could change their passage if they wanted, but I wasn't going to wear a shirt. All it took to test my obstinacy was a sight of SB walking down the corridor. I fucking ran to the room- yes, no graceful departure - a full blooded sprint to grab my t-shirt.

Later I get a text from her, "I was going to the mess when I saw you and you ran away, what was up with that?"

My social clumsiness spelled a disaster for me.

THE FIRST REAL DATE??? (10th Aug)

I couldn't meet SB for the next 4 days. She had her excuses of looming assignment/ project deadines. I was happy as long as I got average grades, so was mostly unconcerned about studies. These 4 days were spent having text monologues with SB. The conversation was wordy from my side, and almost curt from hers.

Then on 10th Aug, I get a B'day message from SB. Not being on facebook means that I escape wrath of the people I had bashed on their birthdays. So this message of hers was a pleasant surprise. Rather than thanking, I asked her how she came to know about the date?

"Student directory," came a matter-of-fact reply.

That she made effort to unearth my birthday made me feel lucky. I called and asked her to go out for dinner with me. She agreed. With luck on such a free run, I expected to shit a gold bar that morning. Sadly no such thing happened.

After my friends conducted the evening ritual of defacing me with cake and dragging me around the mess, I was ready for my evening date. For first time in months I ironed a dark colored shirt (so sweat patches don't show), borrowed jeans from a friend (mine had turned into rags) and cleaned my dusty old shoes to make myself presentable.

We were supposed to take the college bus to a restaurant. Dressed in tight skin hugging jeans and a sleeveless frilly pink dress, when she walked her wavy walk towards the bus, I had to climb after her, so she couldn't see my legs shaking. Such was her effect on me.

I took her to a restaurant called 'Mashaal', which SB had decided. Betraying its name, the place was actually quite upscale. Beyond the main hotel, were the open air shacks, providing an exquisite view of the city and a chilly setting. We sat on a hidden table and ordered drinks, beer for me, breezer for her. I hadn't touched liquor in past 9 months, and it felt good to be back to old habits.

"Cheers to us," she said and we clinked our bottles.

As I set my bottle on the table, she glowered in mock anger, "Fucker, you aren't supposed to place glass es immediately after toast." I apologized, glad to learn a new etiquette lesson.

I had trouble keeping my eyes off of her. When I told this to her, a sliver of smile broke on her face. Either liquor was making me chattier, or it was breaking her inhibitions. Emboldened, I got poetic (or faggy) with her.

"You know, you've got damn expressive eyes." I told her.

"That's probably because of the kohl I wear." she replied promptly, so promptly that I thought she had heard this compliment before.

"And this nose ring really looks good on you." I said, realizing immediately, how lame the dialogue was, but not really caring.

"Yeah, it makes me look mature, without it, I will look like a school girl," came another prompt reply.

When the food came, it only intensified the banter. A Punjabi foodie by nature, she had strong opinions about food, which didn't match with mine. Our eating habits were polar opposite, and we were debating each other within the bounds civility permitted us.

By the time, we made it back to the bus, her eyes were drowsy. Sitting beside her, pretending to be curious, I took her hand in mine, commenting how I could count all 5 veins at the back of her hand, and then adding, how soft her hands were. I was going to exhaust my stock of compliments that night.

"Yeah, some people have sense not to do manual labor....and use a bit of body lotion every now and then," she replied, insinuating the roughness of my hands.

"Since when have you been holding hands with laborers?" I asked, raising my brows in mock surprise.

"Well, since the time a laborer took me out for dinner," she smiled back, biting her lower lip, settling once and for all that she had answer for everything.

INSOMNIA (11th Aug - 18th Aug)

During one of our cycling trips, SB asked me told me how she had booked a Delhi flight ticket for 11th Sep and that her subjects will end on 4th Sep. She was in a dilemma - to get the flight rescheduled or to spend a week in campus, getting her exchange program shit together. I suggested the latter, adding quickly how I will be spending the same week pulling my shit together for a project I needed to complete.

"My parents will pester me to return early," she said.

"You can always tell them that studies are keeping you busy, they aren't going to come here and verify," I suggested.

"I can't lie to my parents," she replied. I wondered how she turned 25 without lying to her parents, something I did so frequently that it had become an instinct.

"Your call." Her decisions were hers to make.

I thought that if indeed she spent that week in campus, when rest of the junta would be gone, it would be a golden chance for me to bed her. I sincerely wished that she stayed back.

The suspense about whether or not she was going to stay made me restless, started messing with my sleep. Even jerking off wasn't helping. I would toss around in bed, feel hungry, munch on peanuts and manage to catch just a flake of sleepdust at the fag end of night.

I thought that working out would help, so I upped the level of exercises I had been doing. After finishing my regular exercises, I committed myself to 100 steps of hand walking. The problem with that was I was a novice handwalker, even on my good days, I managed 15 odd steps. So it took me at least 10 sets to reach that 100 step milestone. My right hand, which is weaker than my left used to fail first and my right elbow would hit the ground. As long as the ground was damp, this wasn't much of a problem. But weak August rains had baked the ground as hard as concrete and my right elbow was dotted with permanent lacerations, leaving me in bad shape for the next day.

Sleepless for 5 days, I knew I was trapped in a vicious circle. Working out harder and not getting enough sleep, I feared that my body was going to give up on me. Lucky for me, help was living next door.

The sage, who used to smoke weed with his girlfriend, and had saved some weed for the future. When I came to know about this, I asked him to roll one for me. Unlike me, he didn't tell me to fuck off, that he was saving the joint for his girl. He calmly took out the pack of cigarettes he hides behind his books (he tells everyone that he has quit smoking, but keeps a pack, just in case), emptied the tobacco, and refilled it with weed. I had never smoked a cigarette before, so he taught me how to smoke one. Inhale a puff through mouth, inhale some more air through nose, let the puff settle in the lungs, exhale slowly.

3 puffs into the joint, I felt that someone put his hand inside my skull and pulled my brains out. A relaxing light headedness descended on me. When the joint was finished, I found myself reaching out for the bottle of water weakly. and drank the whole thing. All I wanted to do was to lie down. Judging my intention, sage cleared up my bed, but let Dylan's 'Jack of hearts' play on my laptop. The song worked like a sweet bedtime story. I happily clasped my hands, locked my arms between my legs and assumed a fetal position. Sage turned off the lights, and left me alone. Some time into the night, I convinced myself that SB was holding my right hand. My right had happily reciprocated by pressing her hand back, until the pain in my left hand told me that I was pressing my own hand. Amused, I started laughing alone in my room. I also realized that I had a serious inkling to piss. Judging by the recent out of body experiences, I had full faith that I would wet the bed, something that would be humiliating even by my standards.

Suddenly taking a proper piss became a very important mission for me. When I got to my feet, my legs felt soupy. The simple motion of walking out of the door seemed like a drag. In the cool air, either I was walking very slowly or the corridor had stretched. Bloody traitor!!! The journey to the urinal and back had suddenly become a challenging one. Aiming piss straight into the urinal was a victory I hadn't enjoyed in a long time. It left me so happy that I slept with a smile on my face for 10 hours.

Somehow I knew that in days to come, weed and I were going to be very good friends.