Hey Honey Bunch

  Most of the photos were beautiful, it had rained while she was there and the aftermath had given her a beautiful opportunity to click pictures. Suddenly my attention went to one particular photo which was towards the end of the stack.

  So, she comes back with a picture of hers, swimming in a small private pool with three other guys (maybe two). The swimming pool was around 9 feet by 15 feet and was a part of the small lodge that was reserved for the trip. It was more of a guest house, she was supposed to stay in. The swimming pool as seen in the picture would have been towards the back of the property surrounded by tall palm trees on one side and the building on the other. The pool was totally occupied by Neelima’s party of three girls and three guys. I knew there were four girls which meant one of them was taking the picture. They were all just playing around in the water. Natural pose. Neelima was flanked by a tall and lean man to her right, who was clearly 3-4 years her senior. On her left was a short pudgy man with a lot of hair on his chest. He was also approximately the same age as the tall guy. The rest of the girls were at the far end of the pool sticking close to each other but away from Neelima and the guys. The photographer would have clicked the shot standing close to the boundary wall.

  I will never be able to forget the rage that consumed me at that time. I was told it was a girl’s only trip (Not that I had asked, she was so excited about the trip, I just soaked in the information). My girlfriend doesn’t like holding hands and is playing around almost half naked in a swimming costume (of course) with guys wearing swimming costumes (obviously). I am not being a male pig here. I trust her more than anything for I have tremendous faith in her. Still.

  But that picture made me realize the power of love. I was filled with rage. Such deep rage that I did not speak to her for a few days. I did not know how to react to the situation. I had no doubts about her and her love for me. Yet I don’t know, I never figured that one out, except that love, can be so explosive. She probably didn’t seem it important enough to tell me. Or I am sure she would have told me eventually that she went all the way to Goa with some males who as it later turned out were not even her friends. They were friends of her friends who had tagged along. Mostly I think she did not think much about it. She would have known that I won’t get jealous or anything. But the rage that I felt that day, I can never ever forget. A part of me feels that it could be jealousy, another part says it could be love, or just the fact that I was not there, with her while others were.

  I have that possessive streak in me but with her, I was so sure and secure I never felt being too possessive. She would be there for me. No matter what happened, she would still love me. She would stand by me side till eternity.

  Neelima

  One of the most memorable times I had with Pushkie, was when we visited the Hauz Khaz Fort. The weather was hot, very hot as I remember something Pushkie liked. We are opposites on that front. He loves summers and dislikes winters. Come to think of it, anything which closes him down caves him in, he finds it threatening. I on the other hand love winters. Isn’t it the best time of the year? I certainly look forward to it.

  Coming back to Hauz Khaz Fort. The fort is centuries old and is a beautiful yet crumbling structure. On one side, it is covered with greenery that comes from the adjacent rose garden and the Deer Park. On the other side, you have the village, a hip and trending commune of restaurants and shops selling expensive food and articles. We were just strolling down the lane when this guy has the audacity to stare at this very hot girl. I agree the girl was smoking hot, wearing a turquoise color top which bared her flat stomach. Her green color capris barely reached her knees. My first instinct was to kill that bitch. The second was to throw Pushkie towards the heavy traffic. But I choose to keep quiet. I know I tease him a lot about being an introvert, but I can keep words in me too. I like to think myself as a deep thinker, as Pushkie once described me. I like that phrase. Deep thinker.

  And the worst thing about the incident is he does not even remember this. Clearly, he doesn’t. Some year later we were having this big fight as usual about his dripping sarcasm which enters into our conversation most of the times. Some women find sarcasm endearing. I find it gross. I hate sarcasm. Especially coming from Pushkie. I think the fight was about this only. (If you ask Pushkie, he would say we seldom fought. According to him, we discussed my complaints and he simply apologized. Ikes!)

  Suddenly in the middle of the conversation, I let it on. I was in a mean mood.

  “You don’t even care about me. Remember that time, you were stripping that girl with your eyes.”

  “What girl? What stripping?”

  “As if you don’t remember. You are a very mean person.”

  “Why don’t you remind me? When did, this happen? And what really happened.”

  “Leave it.”

  “No. Why should we leave it? Tell me.” He was now getting louder.

  “You don’t remember Hauz Khaz, do you?”

  “Of course, I do. It was wonderful. We will go there again. For sure.” His voice had his trademark smirk.

  “So, that you stare at random passing girls.” I blurted out.

  “What is bugging you Neelu. Tell me.” He said it in his heavy voice, sounding like a commander asking his army to prepare for battle.

  “You were staring at this girl when we were at Hauz Khaz. As if you were going to eat her alive.”

  “I remember intending to eat you Neelu, I don’t remember any other girl. Why would I think of any other girl when I am with you?” Now his tone was all seductive and leery.

  “You tell me.”

  “Anyway, why bring this up now. I mean, that was years ago, I am okay to apologize if I hurt you in any way. But tell me, was that girl sexy?” I said sheepishly. Had I really been ogling some other girl?

  “Fuck off.”

  “Why are you pissed today for something happened years ago,”

  “Because of idiot, I was jealous and you didn’t even notice. Gosh Pushkie, for someone as intelligent as you, this only shows your stupidity.”

  Pushkar

  It was a summer afternoon, I was thinking about the idea for a new blog when she called me. She seldom called me at this hour. I picked up the call, and just by hearing her breathe, I knew she had been crying.

  “What happened,” I asked, anxiety pitching my voice high.

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me Neelu.”

  “I just got off the bus and was coming home, when a bunch of guys started following me in a car.”

  “Shit. Are you okay? What happened next?”

  “I ran. I just ran.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s okay now. You are home now. You are safe.”

  “What can we do now Neelima. Tell me what do we do? Write a complaint?”

  “No, let’s leave it.”

  It’s then I make a decision I feel sorry about to this day. I called my friend Gautami. I should not have called her, but in my defense, it was an impulse decision, taken at the height of emotion.

  Gautami is tall, extremely fair, and beautiful girl, I have known for long. At this stage, we were very good friends who loved arguments with each other on various topics. It was nothing that I had with Neelima. This was just platonic.

  “Wake up, are you still sleeping,” I remarked as soon as she picked up the phone.

  “I just slept and you are spoiling my beauty sleep.” She said about to keep the phone down.

  “Shut up and listen, this is important.” I knew she was pissed off. You don’t disturb Gautami while she is asleep and if you do, you pay heavily for it.

  “You know, I told you about my friend Neelima”

  “Yes. What happened.”

  “She is quite upset. I can’t be there. Someone has to. You go and check if she is fine.”

  “First let me sleep okay.” She shrugged off

  “Gautami this is important okay. Listen to me first.”

  So, I narrated her the whole inciden
t as it happened.

  “Do you understand now, why it is more important than your sleep?”

  “Yes, yes, don’t rub it in. Give me her contact no. I will call her and then go over and check on her. Okay?”

  “Okay fine. I am texting you. Bye”

  I hung up the phone, relieved at the moment that the matter would be taken care of. Gautami would know what to do. Knowing Neelima, I knew she won’t confide this to anyone else. She was way upset. I did not know at that moment, just to comfort Neelima, I had put our relationship at a great risk.

  Soon Gautami became the third wheel in our relationship. Neelima designated her as her guardian and big sister. She was everywhere, in our talks, on the phone, on web chats, everywhere. Neelima was like awestruck by her. Gautami now referred to her as ‘little princess’ and grew extremely protective of her.

  What she did not know and never came to know that Gautami had a huge crush on me. It happens, right?

  But having a harmless crush on someone may not be deemed critical or such a big thing. What was important was a creepy possessiveness that got into Gautami. She was soon best pals with everyone I counted as a best pal. All my friends were spending more time with her than me. She took over the entire decision making from where we should go, when should we talk, how should I react to whichever situation any of my friends was.

  I had a feeling that Neelima would understand all this. She will come to see, that harmless crush was turning into a mad obsession. Maybe Gautami did not intend to hurt, but it was hurting my space, my privacy. Her interference was too much and I felt stifled. I tried explaining this to Neelima, but she was completely enamored by Gautami and there get-togethers became routine and this sent alarm bells ringing in my mind.

  However, cool you are, how much ever you love your friends, you do not want two women who love you deeply, to become best pals. Especially if you knew how obsessive they were. You are bound to lose one. I could clearly see that. I had to do something, but without risking my friendship I could not sit them for a talk.

  Ultimately, I did what I felt was the only and biggest wrong I did to Neelima. I asked her to stop talking to Gautami for my sake. I told her that I had no right to ask her to leave her friends or anything. But still, for my sake, she had to leave this one.

  Neelima did not take it well. I think she still harbors strong feelings for what I asked her to do. She was not prepared to leave Gautami. But at that moment, she agreed. However, today they are as close as ever, the social media plastered over with their selfies at prominent hot spots of Delhi.

  It was one of the deadliest blows to our relationship. Neelima should have seen through Gautami’s obsession. She did not. She should have understood my reasons for making such an unusual request. Indeed, I would do nothing to infringe on her personal space. But as soon as she gets rid of me, she went to Gautami to resume from where they had stopped.

  Mostly it was a failure to keep a distance and balance in my friendships. I also never told Neelima, the real reason why I asked her to stay away from Gautami.

  It was not only because her obsession was suffocating me. It was also how my friends were being made distant to me. A sharp divide was being created as one by one, all my friends started drifting away, some pointing to me that I had not done right by Gautami.

  I never knew what she did say to them, but I feel that whatever she did be a reaction to her emotions. She would not have meant deliberate harm to me. But it harmed many of my friendships. Including with Neelima.

  She would not have believed me, so I did not tell her. I was just curt and straight to her that she had to choose one, either me or her. That she actually gave it a thought about it before answering, should have told me about the damage which had been done, but I was too covered in guilt for saying something like this to her.

  It was on this account I never even told her, what happened when I had last met Gautami and the words which were exchanged. I knew she would never understand. The Sad part is, she never even tried.

  What shocked and amazed me, was to see her pictures with Gautami catching up on social media sometime after we had a brief fight. Just a temporary separation, gave her the quick notion of getting back in her books. Now that we are separated for good, Neelima has a friend in Gautami.

  A part of me is happy that two women I loved as friends are together. Even if I don’t talk to anyone of them, at least they are there for each other. That they both once harbored love for me, would be a thing of past for them but they still would remember me somehow. Both are similar too in many ways.

  Now sometimes, I sit back and think could I have done things differently back then? Could I have sent someone else that fateful day? Or no one for that matter? My concern ultimately became my bane.

  Could I have communicated my feelings better to Gautami or Neelu? Maybe I could have. Maybe this was meant to be.

  Neelima

  “You don’t give me any gifts now.” He asked me.

  We were at Gamlin’s a chain of ice cream parlors which is spread across Delhi. I was surprised not for the first time when he guessed right what I wanted to order. Ever since I was a little kid, strawberry ice cream at Gamlin’s has been a constant favorite. Pushkie always remembers such things. I did not even remember telling him this.

  Just as we walked in, he ordered a strawberry delight for me and a chocolate ice cream for himself. He likes dark bitter chocolates for reasons only known to him. Pushkie scooted me to a table by the corner which was facing the windows. Pushkie has this quirky habit of looking for window seats and corners and tables near exits. It is as if the table is more important than the food. Only after settling me in and being sure of the table, did he go back to get the ice creams from the server?

  “Let me pay,” I called after him, halfheartedly. I knew he won’t allow me to pay. My Pushkie was a gentleman to the core.

  “Sure, as soon as you start earning. We are going to have a party when you get your first paycheck.” This would always be his standard answer. Who knows we would be together when I started earning, but Pushkie always was sure about it.

  “So, you don’t give me any gifts,” he repeated when he came back. He offered me a bite off his choco mud something and gosh it was too bitter. My ice cream with chunks of strawberry, on the other hand, was delicious.

  “You don’t deserve any. You are a bad boy.” I told him off playfully.

  “No seriously,” He looked at me with those soft eyes the color of his ice cream. I love his eyes, the way they probe me, look me over. They look so deep, so dark, and so brooding. It is not often that he looks me directly, most of the times his eyes are wandering elsewhere. It makes me feel at times whether he is even listening to me.

  “Well, I did get you presents when I visited the United States,” I told him.

  “I never got any presents. I want my presents from the United States.” He was looking outside.

  “That was some time ago. I obviously don’t have them stored somewhere.” I tried to close the conversation.

  “Why didn’t you give me, my presents which were meant for me?” I did not like where this was going.

  “Because you fought with me and were not talking to me,” I told him.

  “Oh! So, I was not talking to you.” He said in a chirpy tone.

  “Yes, Pushkie, you were not talking to me,” I offered him a bite of my ice cream which he refused. His loss, not mine.

  “And what about you Neelu? Were you talking to me? If I was a moron for not talking to you, did you call me, shout at me or correct me? Did you ask me to pick up my gifts from America?” He looked at me for a brief second and then skirted his eyes away.

  “Leave it.” I was mad at Pushkar. This is what he always did. Tried to make me look like a fool all the time. As if it was my fault always.

  Pushkar

  The Goa trip, the one in which she sent me a song. It was beautiful. I had begged her for years to sing a song for me on h
er guitar, but she always refused. But here it was, on my Whatsapp a song, with no guitar but an angelic voice I knew was hers. I still have it with me but I seldom play it, for it moves me to tears. I don’t know why, but it does.

  The day following her song message was different. I called her many times but she did not pick up my call. Late afternoon, when she called me back, I asked her,

  “You okay?”

  “No. I hate you.”

  “Okay. What happened?”

  “You. You happened. You have always hurt my self-esteem. My confidence has always been low because of you. I could do much more had it not been for you. My self- esteem, my pride always has been undermined by you and your silly jokes.”

  “But you know I never mean it. And there is no one who has backed your decisions as I have. Always, when you felt your friends and family were against your decisions, I stood by you.”

  “I don’t know all that. Bye.” She hung up the call. She might have had killed me by then.

  I went to my room and took out a card. It read Happy Teacher’s Day. I open it and read the words which are well sketched in my mind.

  “Dear Pushkar

  You are the best teacher in the world.

  Yours

  Neelima”

  “What on the Earth is this all about?” I had asked her at the time.

  “You are my mentor Pushkie. You have always shown the right way. You always guide me towards the right direction. You are the best teacher ever. You have always stood by me and know you always will.”

  As she gave me a hug, I simply laughed, not knowing how to say thanks, how to respond such untainted love. I never saw myself as a teacher or a mentor. But yes, I was quite overprotective towards her. Which made me always cautious to her well-being.

  “No matter what happens, I will be always there for you, always,” I promised her.

  Now as I re-read the yellow color card with beautiful roses on it and recalled what she had just said. What was the truth? Had I failed her?