Read Of Course I Love You!: Till I find someone better… Online
Authors: Durjoy Datta
‘So Avantika, you still haven’t told me … what brings you back?’ I asked.
‘Sri Guru,’ she said.
‘Not again. He was the reason we were in this shit in the first place. Nothing would have gone wrong had he not meddled.’
‘Shut up, Deb. At least now I know that I cannot live without you. And for sure that you love me as much as I do.’
‘Big deal. I could have told you that. Anyway, continue,’ I said, happily irritated.
‘I was back to my alcohol habit. The only time I didn’t drink was when I was writing this book. I was fucking myself over, all over again. It was then that I met Sri Guru again and realized I was running away from something that is truly mine. I was running
away from my responsibility.
You.
I am ready to take that now. If something happens to you, I will make sure I set it right. If it is because of me that you see the bad times, it will be because of me that you will see the good ones,’ she finished.
Thankfully. I never got her philosophical nonsense.
‘You bet! Whatever. I generally don’t get this bullshit philosophy of yours. What I do get though, is that you are a great kisser. Can we do it again?’ I leant forward to get what was truly
mine.
She leant away. ‘Before everything else, you should thank Amit. He read your blog and mailed me, days after I met Sri Guru. He seemed to know a lot about me. That is when it all started to fall into place. He told me about you guys, and everything you did for them. I thought if these guys get treated so well, I should be in for super-special treatment!’
‘Ohh! Yup, I missed that. That is how those chapters came up. This is how you knew all the details? But can we kiss first?’ I leant forward and she leant away again. ‘Now what? You still have something else? AIDS? Hepatitis? Whatever it is, I don’t mind. Can we kiss?’
She again fished something out from her bag.
‘Yes, there is something else too. Here goes. The first cheque from Bramha Publications.
Our Story
is being published this year. Like that?’ She smiled and handed over the cheque to me. I read it aloud. It wasn’t much, but it was an assurance that it would be published. My story? Our story? Why would anyone be interested in reading that? Why would anyone want to know about a loser like me? It was unbelievable.
‘What the …? Shit, this is unreal, man! I so fucking love you! I so, so, so, so, so damn love you! Can we please kiss now?’ I jumped onto her, pinning her on the bed.
‘We have to. The last chapter ends with a kiss.’
We kissed.
And that, folks, is where my story ends. There was a lot of kissing, jumping on the bed, partying out, eating out that followed when Amit and Astha came back, but let us keep it for some other time.
Avantika had her posting shifted to Delhi and I was still looking for a job. We decided that being together was more important than job satisfaction. Or even having a job for that matter.
Shrey was to come to Delhi in December, with his German girlfriend in tow. He could even speak a little bit of German. It was cute to see them fight in a mixture of wretched English and equally bad German. He was in love again. When they came, they wrecked my place, which Amit had so lovingly decorated now that Astha was a regular visitor. Shrey, among other things, made Astha and Amit kiss. Their first kiss, a month before they got married. I remember how happy we were that day.
Viru and Yogi came for a visit, too, and promptly asked all of us to treat them, for all of us had a reason to celebrate. I loved them all; they loved me back. Deb was back. Good times were back.
Life had turned a full circle. A screwed one, but a complete one.
Just in case you are interested in what happens a couple of years down the line and are wondering if the good times lasted. Here it is …
Shrey, too, bought a copy of my book.
Pirated
. But he made quite some money in Germany and ordered the legal one. He was doing well, too. He almost married the German girl he was dating and was disinherited from his family. He became the youngest person to donate to the National Physical Laboratory. He hacked Suhel’s account and somehow got him fired; that is what he tells me.
Tanmay and Vernita got married, too, after Vernita got pregnant. Vernita still works in that investment bank and earns a fortune. Tanmay, meanwhile, got through the IIMs and is travelling around the world on internships. Vernita talks to me now, occasionally. We never discuss the kiss. No matter how much I try to. She acts as if it never happened.
Viru and Yogi worked their way up right to the top before they were fired. For sleeping with their boss’s wife. Together. It was her birthday party that got a little out of hand. They are now setting up their own auto-manufacturing unit. Together. The treat for that is still due but I don’t foresee it coming any time soon.
And my best buddy now, Amit, has just shifted to the Middle East with Astha and their one-year-old son, Dev. His kid is already doing math sums. They are doing quite well, too. We mail each other every day. In his last mail, he sent me the snap of his latest asset. An Audi.
And yes, Neeti. She got married to Kumar last year. Shawar is out of prison now and being a good boy. Paritosh is still rotting.
And as for me—Avantika and I are still together. Avantika got me a job at her office and I am doing well. As her junior. The last place we made out was our boss’s cabin. It was her idea. Though
Avantika now complains that I spend way too much time with my friends. Now that her Bengali classes are over, I am taking her to meet my mom soon.
My book did hit the stands and sank without a trace.
And of course I love you!
Imagination seldom runs wild, but when it does, you have a book.
Were it not for these people whom we thank below (and an active God), this book would still be languishing in the
My Documents
folder of our computers. These people might not be literary superpowers, but they always made us feel that our book was Booker material, often without reading the manuscript. Needless to say, we took them seriously.
To start the list with somebody who was dying to see his name in print just as we were, we would like to thank Sachin Garg, first and last, for thinking that we are small Rushdies in the making.
Stuti and Mayank, who are still in a state of shock upon hearing that we can write and, worse, get published! There are others, most of whom have led strange lives and ended up, willingly or unwillingly, contributing to the book:
Megha Sharma, Kanika Suri, Deepika Kapur and Sheetal Shishodia—the four of them who thought it was a long joke until they realized we were not actually rolling on the floor laughing, or, as they say, ROFLing.
Nishit Bhatnagar, Neeti Rustagi, Archit Garg, Abhishek Sachdev (Thanks! You rock!), Nitin Verma, Nikita Singh, Naman Kapur, DVYRAS (partly)—who put up with our strange ways, and all of whom wanted a free copy until they knew they would be on the opening page. Now they want two.
All our fellow bloggers, and the people on Facebook for all the appreciation they showered on us—and still do—despite hating us for the mindless things we write.
Our batchmates at our alma mater(s) who unflinchingly provided us with proxy attendances whenever and wherever needed.
Our families, and especially our parents, who constantly supported and encouraged us, even as they grappled with nightmares of the two of us leaving all material pursuits (read
careers
) and ending up as intellectual paupers. That is, until they read the book and realized we were up to no good.
And finally our sisters, Rituparna Datta and Tanvi Ahuja, who have inspired us and made us believe that this is our calling in life—besides finding ourselves jobs, pursuing management degrees, having kids, taking out the garbage among others—and this is what we should continue doing.
We also thank Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, whose blessings were always with us.
We are glad to have come out of this ordeal of writing a book together, with just a few bruises here and there. We thank ourselves.
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London
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First published by Grapevine India Publishers 2012
Published in Penguin Metro Reads by Penguin Books India 2013
Copyright © Durjoy Datta 2013
Cover photographs © iStock Photo
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-0-143-42160-3
This digital edition published in 2013.
e-ISBN: 978-9-351-18392-1