8

There is something strange about alcohol and cigarettes. They kill you slowly and silently; they eat you up from within, piece by piece, moment by moment—you know it, you know they are killing you, yet, you allow them to!

Weirdly strange.

That was the beginning of the dark phase of my life. I was rotting in the deep pits of hell. Worse, I was not aware that I was yet to fall further down. The worst was yet to come.

I was depressed and miserable. Each day of my life was confined to drinks, smoke, lazing around and thinking about Tara. Every now and then, those gruesome words of Hari— they did it there —would pop up in my mind and I would make another peg just to forget those words.

I could not even realize when alcohol and cigarette became an inseparable part of my life. They felt like a limb that I could never dare cut off.

Strangely, I still wanted Tara back in my life. My love for her was not over yet. I wished every day—all day—that she would change her mind and come back in my life.

Mahesh tried his best to help me overcome the grief. But he failed—as much as I failed.

Still, much to my surprise, he was turning out to be a rather selfless friend who was there with me at every turn.

He was staying with me at my cousin’s apartment, which meant he too was skipping the college. He did not fail in love—then why should he suffer? I cursed myself. Hence, I asked him to move back to hostel and resume college.

He tried to convince me to join back too, but I was in no condition to study. He even threatened to never go back to the college until I accompany him, but his threats did not persuade me.

After many sessions of discussions, promises, drama and even abuses, I finally convinced him to move back to the hostel and leave me alone for a few days. ‘It was the most taxing experience for me. I need some time and space, brother. I will join you back in the college as soon as I am fine,’ I promised him.

It was also in those days when I realized the depths of Kamna’s love for me. Every single day, she brought me food, without failing—twice. I ate sometimes but threw it away mostly—I had lost my appetite.

There were days when I did not bother to open the door for her, yet she left the food with a loving note at my doorstep. I wondered how selfless she must be to tolerate my insulting behavior and attitude.

She loved me madly. And it was my misfortune that I failed to love her back.

I tried to speak to Tara every single day—but failed. She had changed her number and did not share it with any of our common friends.

I often begged Hari to approach her on my behalf; he was reluctant as he hated Tara to his core now. ‘Stupid fuck, you are crying for her and she is fucking around with that bastard,’ he yelled at me once.

‘Please, Hari. I am dying to talk to her. Please request her to talk to me once,’ I pleaded.

He agreed.

‘Don’t you dare ask me to approach that bitch again,’ Hari told me on phone the next day. ‘I told her that you are suffering for her . . . and . . .’

‘And?’ I asked.

‘And she said— usko bol drama bandh kar de ab.’

~

I had swallowed a whole bottle of vodka that night. It was the first time ever I had consumed so much of alcohol in single sitting.

I was not just tipsy, I was bloody fucking drunk.

‘I won’t let you go,’ I muttered and dialed the landline number of Tara’s home. Like the previous attempts, the call was again answered by her mother. The devil inside me wanted to ask her for Tara, but even in my drunken state I was not ready to do anything that would create a trouble for her.

I then called Hari, and then, Mahesh. None of them received the call. It was 2 a.m. They were definitely fast asleep.

But then, I made a huge mistake—a blunder. I called Kamna .

‘I can’t believe you called me at this time of night,’ she said even before I could say hello . I recalled I had said something similar to Tara when she had called me the first time at night.

Memories hit me and I disconnected the call.

I felt bad. Not for me—but for Kamna. She loved me as madly as I loved Tara. And I did not love her—just like Tara did not love me.

Fuck love. It creates more victims than happy couples.

Kamna called me back. ‘Why did you cut the call?’

‘Can you come to my place?’

‘Now?’ she sounded confused. ‘It’s not possible, Kunal. See the time. What would I tell my parents?’

‘Don’t tell them. Just sneak past them. They must be asleep anyway,’ I suggested, selfishly. I would have never given such a suggestion to Tara. I would have never wanted her to take any risk that could put her into trouble.

‘Dad will kill me if he finds it out. Can I come in morning?’

‘It’s fine,’ I said lighting a cigarette and disconnected the call.

My phone rang immediately. ‘Are you fine?’ I heard worry and anxiousness in Kamna’s voice.

‘Yes. I am fine,’ I replied and disconnected again.

She called back. ‘You don’t sound fine. I’m coming.’

She loved me beyond limits, indeed.

The doorbell rang fifteen odd minutes later and I stumbled across the drawing room to answer it, a bottle of vodka in my hand.

I was a bit shocked to see Kamna standing in my doorway. I was too drunk that for a brief moment I had even forgotten that I had invited her minutes ago.

She stood in front of me, dressed in a black leg-in and a front open pink hoodie. I stared at her, from top to toe. It was the first time I looked at her that way. She looked more seductive than usual.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, concerned. Her eyes said she wanted to come in, but her body language screamed otherwise. She looked confused—as confused as me.

I abruptly grabbed her hand and pulled her in.

‘What are you—’ she whispered but I placed my finger on her lips. She gasped at my touch. I pushed the door close with my foot and pressed her against the wall. She was quiet, but her eyes did all the talking. They were asking me to move forward—or perhaps, so I thought.

I pushed myself onto her and covered her body with mine. She felt soft and fragile against my body and smelled of jasmine.

‘You are drunk. You should not—’ she was out of words as I placed a soft kiss on her neck.

I looked up and we stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment silently. I felt her chest rise and fall heavily against mine. I moved my lips closer to hers and felt her shiver.

She closed her eyes.

Without kissing her lips, my lips reached her neck again. ‘How much did you drink tonight?’ she asked, neither resisting nor wrapping her hands around me. I expected her to do at least one—and I was inclined towards her wrapping.

I paused for a moment but ignored her question. Wrapping myself hard against her, I began kissing her neck furiously. Her breathe was getting faster with every moment. ‘You are drunk,’ she spoke again.

I kept quiet and continued with kissing. She raised her hands to stop me but I grasped them and held them behind her back. She did not resist.

I kissed her again and again and moved down. My lips reached her cleavage and with one free hand I held the zipper of her hoodie to open it. I was losing myself, and the fact that she was not resisting was encouraging me to move further.

I pulled the zipper of her hoodie down and grabbed her by waist tight.

‘Do you love me?’ she asked out of the blue.

I did not reply. I did not want to reply.

Avoiding her question, I forced her to turn and pushed her into the wall hard. ‘Kunal . . .’ she yelped. I mistook it for pleasure. I pulled her hoodie off and threw it aside. She was wearing a thin tube-sleeved top underneath it. I hastily pulled it—and she finally resisted.

Pushing me, she turned to face me.

‘Do you love me?’ she asked again, this time a little louder, placing her palm on my chest. I tried to get closer again but she pressed her hand hard.

‘I asked you something. Do you love me?’

‘Does that matter?’ I hushed.

‘Yes. It does matter. I am a decent girl—not some whore.’

Her words felt like a slap to me and brought me back to my senses. In the blink of an eye, my drunken state faded and I could clearly see through my actions.

‘But you love me, right?’ I asked, much sober now.

‘I loved the guy who knew what true love is. I loved the guy who never looked at me the way you are looking at me today. I loved the guy for whom love was more important than the shit you are doing right now,’ she yelled. ‘And you—do not look like that guy anymore. You have turned into something pathetic . . . something disgusting.’

‘But wasn’t it this that you always wanted?’

‘I can get this anywhere. There are thousands of men out there who would be ready to fuck a girl if given a chance.’

Her words were too fierce. I pulled myself together and took a step back. Yes, I was drunk. Yes, I was turned on. Yes, I wanted to get physical with her. But, I was not a molester. I was not a monster.

I wondered how some men force themselves on women. But, I was not one among those sick men.

As her words sunk in with me, I felt ashamed. She definitely did not deserve that. Her words—though brutal—were right without a shred of doubt. I had become something disgusting.

I kept my silence. But she spoke again, ‘I love you, Kunal. I love you beyond your imaginations. But I don’t want to be treated like this. I want love in return of love. If you ever think you can give me that love—I’m just a call away. I would love to make love with you—but that should be love, not the lust you are filled with at this moment.’

She waited for me to speak. But I had no words to speak.

Ultimately, she picked her hoodie up from the floor and left without another look at me.

I don’t remember for how long I sat by the door with vodka bottle in one hand and cigarette in another after she was gone.

I was furious with myself. How did I do this to her? She was the only girl who actually gave a fuck about me—and I screwed it all. When did I turn into this rotten piece of shit?

I was no more the man I was proud to be. I was no more the man Kamna was proud to love.

‘Fuck,’ I yelled and threw the bottle of vodka against a wall and regretted immediately. It was the last bottle I had!