2 States The Story Of My Marriage (5 page)

done right. But I didn’t care. Maybe she had missed me too. Maybe it wasn’t such

a big deal for her. Maybe I was just imagining this and this hadn’t really

happened. Maybe I should stop dreaming like an idiot and run to her room. Maybe

I shouldn’t, as I had no idea what to do when I meet her. Maybe I should let a

night pass and talk to her in class tomorrow.

‘Don’t keep mentioning it,’ she said as the same lips that were on mine thirteen

hours and twenty-two minutes ago sipped tea during class break.

‘Yes, sure, OK….’ I had already thanked her seven times. I changed the topic.

‘The normal distribution is totally overrated,’ I said, referring to the statistics

class we had attended.

‘And don’t expect more,’ Ananya said.

‘More what?’ I said. She had brought the topic back now.

‘More meaning not anymore. Now, just back to what you said about the normal

curve,’ she said.

‘Sorry, only one clarification. By more you mean no more kisses or no more

than kissing?’

‘Can you stop it? We are in the middle of a class.’

‘But I am in the middle of a life crisis. Please tell me.’

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‘Is that all you guys think about? We have to study all these normal curve

problems tonight.’

I looked at her and smiled.

‘Any jokes about curves and I will kill you,’ she promised as the bell rang for
class.

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7

Needless to say, one thing led to another and within two weeks we had sex. You

put a boy and girl in a room for a week and lots of boring books, and sparks are

sure to fly.

‘This is my first time,’ she said after we did it and pointed to her mother’s

picture on the wall. ‘And if she finds out, she will flip.’

‘We should cover these pictures when we do it. They freak me out,’ I said,

scanning her family members.

She laughed. ‘Was this your first time?’

‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ I said.

‘Did you have a girlfriend in IIT?’ She sat up to wear her top.

I kept quiet.

‘Did you have sex with a guy?’ Ananya asked eyebrows up.

‘No,’ I screamed and sat up. ‘Are you stupid? You, of all people, are asking me
if I am gay.’

‘I heard they make you do all sorts of stuff in ragging.’

‘No, it wasn’t that bad. I had a girlfriend.’

‘Really?’ She blinked. ‘How come you never told me!’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over. It ended when I left college, two years
ago.’

‘Why? Who was she? A student?’

‘Prof’s daughter.’

‘My, my, my! We have a stud here.’ Then, ‘Pretty? Prettier than me?’

I looked at Ananya. Why do women size each other up in looks so much?

‘Similar, though you are much smarter,’ I said.

‘Similar?’

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‘OK, you are better looking,’ I said. The girl who asks the question is the better
looking one, always.

‘Thank you,’ she said as she stepped off the bed to wear her track pants. ‘Why

did it end?’

‘I sort of had a deal with her father.’

‘Father? What, he bought you out? Gave you a blank cheque like in films?’ she

laughed.

‘No, he let me have my degree on time. Because of which I am here. But the

implicit deal was, don’t push it. Don’t dream of being family. There was no future,

so it died.’

My throat closed up as I thought about my previous girlfriend. Somehow, it

never really gets over with an ex. You merely learn to push their thoughts aside.

Unless someone prods your brain again to think of them. ‘Can we leave it now?’

‘Where is she now? Campus?’

‘No, father went to the US to a senior faculty post in MIT. She found a geeky

guy of the same community. Engaged in six months, married in a year. Rest I

don’t know. Now, even though we were naked a few moments ago, I do think I can

make a case for invasion of privacy.’

‘Well, it affects me. In case you are still involved with her.’

‘I’m not. It took me a long time to get over her, but I am not involved anymore.’

‘Did you love her?’

‘Yes. And I feel sick I didn’t have the courage to fight her father. And no more
talk about her please,’ I said. My ex-girlfriend and my father were off-limit topics.

‘One last question. Is she South Indian?’

‘How do you know?’

‘You mentioned IIT, MIT, geeky software programmer, it wasn’t that hard.’

I laughed.

‘My parents are pretty conservative too,’ she said, switching on her electric

kettle.

‘We haven’t planned to get married yet.’

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She stared at me. I wondered if I had said the wrong thing. I was being factual.

‘You are right. We are just friends with benefits, right? Or what is it? Fuck

buddies?’

She looked upset. It is amazing how the vulnerability in a relationship shifts

from the guy to the girl after you’ve had sex.

‘Hey, we…..’

But she interrupted me. ‘Sorry, I am freaking out. Have tea.’ She passed me a

cup. I twiddled with the handle for two minutes. Despite the sexual possibilities,

we still had to study.

‘Should we open the HR case? It is about a strike in a hotel,’ I said as I opened
my folder.

She nodded without eye contact. I racked my brain hard on what I could say

that could make her feel better. ‘I love you,’ I said.

She carefully closed her case materials and looked up at me. ‘Mean it? She

said, her eyes wet.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘You are not just saying it so you can have sex with me again?’

‘No. but are you saying that….’

‘I am not saying anything. Is that all you think about?’

‘We study together, eat together, go out together, sit in class looking at each
other all day, the only time we are apart is when I have to go to sleep or when I

have to use the toilet. So,’ I paused.

‘So what?’

‘I love you damn it! Don’t you get it?’ I yelled.

‘That’s better. Now you sound convincing.’ She smiled.

‘And you?’ I asked.

‘I’m going to think about it.’

‘Excuse me?’

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‘Well, I could be only using you for sex,’ she said.

‘Excuse me?’ I said, this time louder.

She laughed. I threw a pillow at her.

‘I told you. I have to think about it.’

Even though she never said ‘I love you’, Ms Swaminathan moved in with me. I had

freaked out about the idea when she arrived at my room one day with a backpack

for overnight clothes. I’d have much preferred her place, as I didn’t want her to be
the only woman in the dorm with twenty testosterone-charged men.

Still, it was kind of nice. She brought her electric kettle, sweet smile and magi-making abilities with her. While we used to study together earlier, now there was

even more discipline. When a woman comes into your life, things organize

themselves.

We woke up in the morning, she half an hour earlier than me. She would rush

to her dorm a hundred metres away and bathe there. I’d get ready and meet her at

the mess for breakfast.

‘This is your assignment and this is my quant worksheet.’ She’d take out the

stack of work from last night and divide it in the mess. We’d go to class together,

and if Kanyashree was in a good mood, she’d switch places with Ananya for a

day. Otherwise, we’d take our original seats and stare at each other through

class. The five Mohits were quite amused at first, but later adjusted quite well and
turned to check us out only when the lecture got boring. In fact, her moving in

with me created a mini scandal. Like it always happens, I earned the tag of a stud.

And she earned tags ranging from stupidly-in-love to slut. But it didn’t matter to

her as maybe she was stupidly in love. Every day in class, she would pass me a

note.

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‘I miss you. Can’t wait to cuddle with you after class,’ it said, and it came to me
via Ankur, Bipin, Bhupin, ten other students and Kanyashree. We lived with each

other, yet she missed me in class from six rows away.

‘Stop sending such notes in class. People will open them,’ I warned.

‘You are no fun,’ she replied with several sad smiles. Bipin smiled as he

passed the note. OK, so someone had entertainment in class.

‘You are a whisker away from being in the top ten. One more A in the statistics

final exam and you are there,’ she said one night three months after she had

moved in with me.

‘I can’t believe I’m studying so much. In IIT, all we’d do is chat all night.’ I
switched off the lights.

‘We could chat all night,’ she said as we tucked under the quilt together.

‘About what? And why? We are with each other all the time. Why sacrifice

sleep?’

‘Still, we could talk. Future plans and stuff.’

The word ‘future’ and females is a dangerous combination. Still, in business

school future could merely mean placement. ‘We’ve good grades. You’ll easily

get HLL. It is the best marketing job, right? And I’ll go for WPM.’

‘WPM?’

‘Whoever pays more, so I can save as much money as fast as possible,’ I

grinned.

‘You still serious about becoming a writer, right?’ She ran her fingers through
my hair.

‘Yes but I’m still wondering what I’d write about,’ I yawned.

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‘About anything. Like that girlfriend of yours.’

‘Ananya, we had a pact. We will not talk about my ex-girlfriend again.’

‘Sorry, sorry. You said you had a deal with the Prof for grades, so I thought

maybe it will make an interesting story.’

‘Good night, my strategist.’ I kissed her and lay down.

‘I love you,’ she said.

‘Mean it?’

‘Yes.’

‘How come you said it now?’

‘I think about it a lot. I only articulated it now. Good night,’ she said.

One-and –a-half years later

‘Tell me your thoughts. Don’t you like to talk after making love?’

Actually, I prefer to look at the fan above. Or drift into a nap. Why do women

want to talk all the time? We were in my room. We were snugly wrapped up on a

cloudy, winder afternoon.

‘I love to talk,’ I said carefully. ‘Do you have something in mind?’

‘It’s one week to placement and I’m nervous,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry, every company has short-listed you. You will hit t he jackpot.’

‘I’m not nervous about receiving a job offer. What after that?’

‘After that? Finally, we will have money in the bank. No more scrimping while

ordering in restaurants, no more front row seats in theatres, no more second-

class train travel. College is fun, but sorry, I’ve had my share of slumming it.

Imagine, you can shop every month!’

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‘I don’t like shopping.’

‘Fine, you can save the money. Or travel to exotic places.’

Her face turned more thoughtful.

‘You OK?’ I asked.

‘Do you realize we leave campus in four weeks?’

‘Good riddance. No more mugging and grades, hopefully for life,’ I said.

Her voice dropped an octave. ‘What about us?’

‘About us what?’ I asked with an idiotic, confused expression exclusive to men

when they have to get all meaningful with women.

She sat up and wore her top. She stepped off the bed to wear the rest of her

clothes. Despite the serious mood, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderful

women looked when they change. ‘I’m going to my room. Enjoy your nap,’ she

said.

‘Hey,’ I extended my arm and stopped her. ‘What’s up? I am talking, no?’

‘But like a dork. We could be in different cities in four weeks. It will never be
like this again.’

‘What do you mean never?’ I said, my mouth open.

‘Wear your clothes first. I want to have a serious discussion.’

She kept quiet until I finished dressing. We sat across, cross-legged on the

bed.

‘Here is the deal,’ I said, collecting my thoughts. ‘You are the career focused
one, I am doing it for the money. So, I will try to get a job in the same city as you.

But the issue is, we don’t know which city you will be in. So how can I do

anything about it now?’

‘And what will you do next week? We are all going to get placed around the

same time. You can’t wait for me to get a job.’