part0032

Minutes before my twenty second birthday, on that rainy night, I sat in a vacant guest chair of the poolside restaurant I managed. Most of the guests were gone and a few trainees were busy with closing formalities.

Hotels are a weird place to work in. All the day they are jam-packed with guests and hotel staff, but as the midnight approaches, every corner of those giant hotels suddenly turn eerily vacant and silent. For a few people like me, that eerie silence is rather soothing. I always loved dark vacant places than those filled with light and people.

‘Sir, let’s go,’ Nishant, a waiter and one of my closest boys in the hotel, called out to me. My staff had arranged a small cake-cutting ceremony to celebrate my birthday and was waiting for me in the room service area.

‘Give me a minute,’ I said and took my phone—a Samsung Galaxy S—out of my pocket. I was waiting for the clock to strike 12 and get the first call from Tara. I knew she would call me before anyone else. I knew she too would be holding her phone in her hand and waiting for the new day to begin.

I waited patiently. The countdown had begun. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. And my phone rang.

It was not Tara. It was Mahesh. ‘Happy birthday, bitch.’

‘Thanks, brother,’ I had just said when I realized another call was on waiting. Tara. I knew it.

Wrong guess, again. It was Hari this time.

In next fifteen minutes, I got around a dozen calls from my family, relatives and friends, but none of them was from Tara. I wondered why ?

While my staff was busy singing the Birthday Song and I was cutting the cake, my phone buzzed again. Tara for sure.

Alas. It was an unknown number.

I excused myself from the celebration and answered the call. ‘ Waqt badal jaata hai, lekin insaan ki fitrat nahi badalti,’ said an unknown male voice from the other end of the phone.

‘Your old friend.’

‘I am sorry I can’t recognize your voice.’

‘Do you know where Tara is at this time?’ he shook me with the unexpected question.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘I am the one who slept with her before you could,’ the unknown guy said and laughed hysterically.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ I yelled into the phone.

There was a sudden silence in the background. I looked back to see that all my staff members had stopped celebrating abruptly and were now staring at me. Ankur, the other Assistant Restaurant Manager, walked to me. ‘Any problem?’ he said.

‘Calm down, buddy. Ronit here,’ the guy on the phone now revealed his identity.

‘I guess you were not happy with our last meet. Give me some time, I am coming to meet you again.’

‘There is no need to come to me . I am texting you an address. Go there and see the truth of the girl for whom you threw me out of a moving car,’ he hissed like an angry snake. ‘Your Tara is spending the night with her new boyfriend—Pratyush. He is her college mate, and she is double crossing you, again!’

‘I swear to God you will regret saying this, Ronit.’

‘I have sent you an SMS. Go to the address and see it yourself.’ He disconnected the call.

I called him back, enraged, but he rejected my call. There was an SMS notification on my screen—it was an address.

I wanted to dismiss all those allegations by Ronit then and there, hence, I called Tara. But her phone was switched off.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ankur asked, worried.

Dressed in my hotel uniform, a white shirt and black pants with white stripes, I stood in front of flat number 103 of Shiv Shakti Apartment in Bhawarkuan, the address given by Ronit. I was sweating so profusely all the way that I had to take the blazer off and throw it in the backseat of the car.

I had a fair idea that Ronit was lying and was just trying to get even with me. I had done some permanent damage to his body in our last meeting. But why is he doing this now? Why after two bloody years?

I still reached the address. If not for Tara’s integrity, then for my own mental sanity.

‘Who’s there?’ said a male voice, Pratyush’s most probably. I had never met the guy earlier, but I did hear about him from Tara a few times. She had called him her good friend.

‘ Kaun hai, bhai?’ he said and opened the door. He was dressed in nothing but his boxer shorts, upper body naked. ‘You?’ he said, a little frightened. It was not a surprise that he knew me. I had visited Tara’s college a lot many times, and thus, many of her college students knew who I was.

Ignoring him, I scanned the drawing room. It had nothing but a mattress, a TV set and a guitar. Heaving a sigh of relief, I walked in.

‘Listen, dude. You can’t just walk in,’ his tone held an unsaid warning.

‘I will leave soon.’ I strolled towards the bedroom.

‘Hello,’ he yelled and grabbed me by my arm. His sudden reaction was alarming.

‘What’s the matter? I am just checking your bedroom,’ I said in a polite yet threatening tone.

‘No—you can’t? he stammered.

‘But why?’ I eyed him suspiciously.

‘Because my girlfriend is in there.’

Was Ronit right? I thought. ‘What’s your girlfriend’s name?’ I demanded.

‘That’s not your concern, Kunal. Get out of my flat.’

‘It is my concern,’ I roared and rushed to the bedroom door.

‘No,’ he shouted at the top of his voice and blocked my way.

‘Let me check your bedroom, Pratyush,’ I warned him.

‘Leave my flat—now.’ He grabbed me by the collar.

My temper was near the snapping point. I looked into his eyes and waited for a couple of seconds for him to back off. He didn’t. ‘Don’t try to fuck with me at this moment,’ I hissed and kicked him in stomach.

He fell down with a clatter on a few utensils kept in the passage that led to the bedroom.

‘Sorry,’ I mouthed realizing that the kick was way too brutal and tried to open the bedroom door. It was locked from inside. ‘Open the door,’ I said, knocking on it.

‘Listen, ma’am, whoever you are. Just open the door. I will see you and I will go away.’

No reply. The door was still closed.

‘Alright, say something—anything. I will listen to your voice and understand . . . and I will leave. Can you please speak something?’ I requested from the door.

The clouds of doubt began to take shape. The girl inside would have at least spoken something, would have at least screamed in fear, unless it was someone who knew that I may recognize her voice, unless it was . . . No. I am just over thinking, I convinced myself.

‘Pratyush.’ I walked back to him. ‘Ask your girlfriend to open the damn door.’

‘She is a girl. You might have scared her. She won’t open the door,’ Pratyush said, trying to sit up.

‘Fine. Ask her to speak something.’

‘I will call the police, Kunal,’ he almost cried.

His answer enraged me further. ‘You think I am playing, hmm?’ I walked to the small kitchen attached to the passage and grabbed a knife. I was full of doubts, insecurity and fear—and I literally had no idea of what I was doing. ‘Enough of the drama now.’ I sat in front of him, showing him the knife. ‘Call your girlfriend out in ten seconds, or I will slit your throat right fucking now.’

He looked at me with terror in his eyes. His lips trembled when he looked at the bedroom and spoke, ‘Come out. Please come out . . . or he will kill me.’

I stood up as I heard the door latch opening. My eyes were fixed at the door. I had never been so restless in my life before. Not Tara. Not Tara. I prayed to every God possible in those seconds.

As the door opened, the rug was pulled out from under me. It was Tara, coming out of another man’s bedroom. Her clothes said that she had worn them in a hurry. Her hair was scattered. Her face looked guilty. ‘I am sorry, Kunal. I was about to tell you,’ she muttered.

I went blank for a moment.

‘Tell me what?’ I took a step towards her. My hands, still holding the knife, were shaking.

She said something, but I was not in a condition to listen to anything.

‘What kind of woman are you?’ I managed to speak, and as I took another step towards her, I almost stumbled. My legs gave in. My hands began to shake rapidly and I had a spasm in my tongue.

Before I could realize, I had fits, and I fell on the floor. Worse, I fell in a way that the knife was in my hand, pointing at me, and as I was on the floor, its sharp end got buried in my body, a little below my shoulder.

‘No. I didn’t do it,’ Pratyush was explaining as the doctor was stitching my wound. Fortunately, it was a thin kitchen knife and failed to do major damage to me.

‘He was holding the knife when he had fits, and he fell on it,’ Pratyush tried to justify.

‘Why was he holding a knife?’ the doctor asked suspiciously.

‘I was cooking,’ I replied before Pratyush could speak.

He looked at me and took a sigh of relief.

Soon after I fell on the knife, Pratyush called some of his friends from the flat nearby and they took me to a hospital immediately. The boy was not as bad as I thought. Being honest, if I was in his place, I would have kicked the wounded guy out of my flat if he was my girl’s ex. But Pratyush did not. He took me to a hospital! Who does that?

Tara, however, stood there—like a dummy—and just stared while the boys took me away. She did not even flinch at the sight of me having fits. She did not even bother to hold me or support me as I fell. She did not even bother to check me as I bled. She just did not bother anymore.

‘Where’s she?’ I asked Pratyush after the doctor left and we were alone in the emergency room.

‘I am sorry, Kunal. Tara had told me that she no more loves you and she just can’t tell you about it.’

‘How long is it going on from?’ I felt broken inside and my desire to yell at him was lost somewhere.

‘A couple of months.’ I clenched my fists in anger as those words fell on my ears. I sat motionless on the stretcher, my head resting on my hand.

‘I am sorry,’ he muttered.

I looked at him, helpless and heated at the same time, and then, jumped off the stretcher. ‘Take your shirt off.’ My shirt was all soiled in blood and I hated it, just like I hated everything in that moment.

‘Sorry?’ He looked puzzled.

‘Give me your shirt. I got to go,’ I demanded angrily as I tore open my shirt and threw it aside. ‘And where’s my car?’

‘It must be parked near my place. Give the key, please. My friend will get it here.’ He began taking his shirt off. He clearly was scared of me, and he was right to do so.

‘Ask your friend to get some bottles of vodka as well.’ I threw the key at him. Though I had given up drinking, I needed vodka that night. I so damn needed it.

‘Vodka? At this time?’

‘Do you want me to go to police and give a false statement that you stabbed me?’ I looked at him in rage and wore his shirt.

‘I will get it. Give me ten minutes, please.’ He ran out of the emergency room.

‘Do you even know which car it is, idiot?’ I shouted.

‘Sorry . . .’ He walked back into the room.

‘It’s a white Indigo.’

After I was left alone in that room smelling with strong medicines, I leaned over the stretcher and closed my eyes, to calm myself down. I felt as if I was stuck in severe mental chaos. It was too much for me to bear.

Staying there is the same position for few very long minutes, I then took my phone out of my pocket and called the only person I always remembered when I was panicked—Mahesh. ‘Take the earliest flight to Indore,’ I felt tears building in my eyes when I said that. I stopped them from flowing out. I am not going to cry again. No more .

‘Hey . . . anything wrong?’ Mahesh asked in a sleepy voice.

‘Come soon, Mahesh. I need you.’

‘Yes, I am coming. But tell me what’s the matter?’ his tone was laced with worry.

‘Just come to Indore as soon as possible.’ I could not tell him everything on phone. I had no courage to repeat those creepy things I saw just then.

‘Alright. I will be there at the earliest. You—’ he was saying something more, but I cut the call before he could.

It was still raining as I walked out of the hospital. Pratyush, who was now in his inner vest and waiting for me at the counter, followed me without uttering a word. He still looked frightened.

The car I had taken from Ankur was parked right in front of the hospital gate. ‘I asked all my friends for vodka, but could only manage whiskey and rum,’ Pratyush told me. ‘There is one bottle of RS and one of Old Monk. I kept them in your car.’

‘Who the fuck drinks RS?’ I stopped and looked at him.

‘I am just a student, bro. That’s all I can afford,’ he replied meekly.

‘And still she cheated me for you,’ I cursed.

‘She said she loved the way I dance. And that made her fall in love with me.’

I looked at his stupid face. The guy had no idea that had he not been kind enough to take me to the hospital, he would have been admitted in the same hospital by then. ‘Fuck off,’ I barked and walked to the car.

‘Kunal . . .’ He ran to me as I entered the car and wore my black blazer. ‘I love her,’ he said, standing at the gate.

‘Then you will regret soon.’ I started the engine.

‘Why? Just because she left you for me?’

‘No. Not that.’ I looked into his eyes.

‘ Kyuki waqt badal jaata hai, lekin insaan ki fitrat nahi badalti ,’ I said and left. That dialogue was from one of the men I hated the most—Ronit—but it was true as fuck.