Our Impossible Love

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘I’m sorry!’

  He threw me a look.

  ‘Okay, I’m not sorry.’

  His lips were bleeding. He stood unmoving like a statue, waiting for my instructions. I pointed to his lips.

  ‘You’re bleeding. Go. Go to the washroom.’

  He touched his lips and inspected his bloodied fingers.

  ‘Shit.’

  He tilted his head backwards and walked to the washroom. I held out tissues and dabbed his lips. Though the sink had reddened now, I couldn’t help but find myself in the middle of a grin and then started laughing out loud.

  ‘Wait. Let me look.’

  I took the tissue from him and kept it against his lips. It stopped bleeding after a while.

  ‘Does it pain?’

  He licked his lips and shook his head.

  ‘Should we try it again?’

  He looked at me, confused and wobbled his head, a mix of a Yes and No. I led him out to the room again. I held his head, softly this time and went in excruciating slow motion towards his face, like I had learned in the movies, and kissed him. His hand hung limply around his waist. They were slightly distracting and made me feel I was coaxing him into making out with me so I took them and placed them firmly around my waist. We kissed now. At first slowly, and then he took the lead and really got into it. His hands were all over my back now, no longer shy. And then, he suddenly stopped as his hand touched my bare back.

  ‘Yes,’ I mumbled, and his hand crept up my T-shirt.

  I felt free, and a little like crying but thought it would ruin the mood. I kissed him all over his face, and lunged on his neck, letting myself loose. He moaned and I felt a little selfish and pushed his face at my collarbone. He may have broken his nose. He kissed my neck and tried reaching places he couldn’t have without my clothes on so I helped him because he wouldn’t have for all the money in the world. I took off my T-shirt and he tried really hard not to stare and failed miserably. I felt my entire body warm up. I struggled. God knows I did. It took all my might to remind myself that the boy was Danish, a nice guy who loved me, and this was what I wanted too, to prevent myself from slipping into darkness again.

  I hugged him, half to not let him see me without my T-shirt, and half to feel his body up against mine. I slipped my hands inside his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Feeling his body against mine, I almost burst into flames. I pushed him on to the bed and in a move that would impress Jason Statham, switched off the light with my leg. Full points for bravery as I unclasped by bra and threw it away. I lowered my body into his and his breathing quickened.

  I paused.

  ‘We can stop if you want to,’ said Danish, almost looking for his T-shirt.

  ‘Shut up. I want this.’

  ‘I mean, Aisha, we don’t—’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘This is probably not right—’

  ‘It is. And shut up.’

  I kissed him before he reminded me of what I was struggling with. It was my past and it wasn’t going to ruin my present and my future. I deserved better and wanted to be loved and lusted for. It was obvious why he stopped but I didn’t want to. I really wanted this. What happened wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t going to punish myself for it. I would ram the thoughts out of my head every time they threatened my sanity. And so that’s what I did.

  I reached for his jeans, unclasped the button and pulled it away. He crouched as if hiding from me. I got naked myself. I caught him staring. I climbed over him. For the first time I felt naked. His hands ran over my bare back. I took him in my hands and stroked him gently. He reached out for his wallet and took out a condom, which I rolled over him. I lowered myself down on him. I fumbled in the dark, but soon I grabbed hold of him and slowly guided him inside me. And then I lost sense of time and space. We were a hot, sweaty mess rolling around the bed, unmindful and hungry and relentless. It was white hot blinding pain and immeasurable pleasure. I reached places in my head I didn’t know existed, waves of calm and pain washed over me and I drowned happily in them.

  It was the best twenty-five minutes of my life. I felt alive, I felt beautiful, I felt satisfied, I felt human, and I wanted to do it again. I told him that.

  ‘There’s also something I need to tell you,’ he said as I nibbled at his ear.

  ‘I know. I think I might love you too,’ I said and we started kissing again.

  53

  Danish Roy

  It was my first real date with serious possibilities and I had to get it right and my brother hovering around me didn’t help. I had bought myself a three-minute cucumber mask from the supermarket after hours of hanging around the racks which promised better, youthful skin, and I couldn’t use it till he made himself scanty.

  ‘You need to test out this app,’ he said. ‘I’m meeting investors tomorrow and it needs to be glitch-free. They are not going to invest otherwise and then it will go in the dump.’

  ‘It’s going to be awesome,’ I said, as I shaved slowly. ‘You’re a genius.’

  ‘Danish, I need your help here. This isn’t a big money-making app. So they might be a little sceptical. Hell, they might even want to charge people for it. Imagine!’

  ‘If you want someone’s help, you should take Aisha’s. But you have to get this thing to work.’

  ‘I’m trying my best,’ he said. ‘And I’m going to leave now. You can put on your mask if you want to.’

  He left.

  I picked Aisha up two hours later, my skin still the same, a little itchy though. She wore a red dress and a hint of make-up. She looked stunning and I told her that. She joked if I were just saying that to get into her pants and laughed boisterously at her own joke.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

  ‘Only the biggest Tekken Tournament of it all!’ she squealed.

  An hour later, we got to a rundown gaming parlour with a standee that announced the tournament. It wasn’t really a tournament; it was more of an intra-Facebook Tekken community monthly shakedown. There were twenty participants in all. We were the oldest by half a decade and we got knocked out in the first round, humiliated by little kids, and that was end of that.

  ‘That wasn’t nice at all,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, we might have been a little overconfident,’ she said.

  ‘Now what?’

  ‘We could go dancing?’ In the middle of the day, I asked.

  ‘Why not?’

  And so we did. Apparently, there were a lot of clubs in Noida that held afternoon parties for school children who found it hard to get permission to go out at night. So we danced awkwardly for an hour or two and walked out sweaty and happy after I had embarrassed myself enough.

  Hungry, we drove to the closest McDonald’s, ordered almost everything on the menu and argued about who was the funniest in FRIENDS, whether Stannis Baratheon was the one True King, and whether the second season of True Detective was overrated, and if she thought Indian serials would be much better if they shut down in twenty-six episodes.

  Later that afternoon, we found ourselves at a little nook in one of the quaint-looking coffee shops in Hauz Khas, and we wound up cosily reading our books. We debated on which one was better. We kissed each other every once in a while, and talked about how I would have to leave my job soon because what we were doing was against school rules. ‘You can work with your brother,’ she told me, and I nodded. Later we spent a good hour testing out Ankit’s app and replying to people who had written in. She gave me a few pointers and I noted them down and shot them across to Ankit.

  We made out twice in the car, almost getting busted by a cop the second time around. Sometimes, she flinched but otherwise she fought it pretty well. She was happy. And to know I contributed to it was a solid four on ten.

  *

  The next day, I submitted my resignation letter again, and Aisha came to my room to rue my departure with a one-pound cake which we polished off in minutes.

  ‘I will miss
you here,’ she told me.

  ‘I will miss you too.’

  We packed my stuff into a little brown box the school had provided me.

  ‘I hope you will be fine.’

  She nodded and looked away from me.

  ‘I saw him again today,’ she said.

  ‘Did he say anything?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he will.’

  The school had stopped wearing those badges but no one doubted Aisha any more. They would all nod at her, or just let her be, which she liked infinitely better. People would talk about Vibhor though. Last heard, the physical education teacher kicked him out of the football team. His band of followers had long disbanded and he would hang out with only a handful of loyal boys who I guessed were with him because his father was still rich and paying for his exploits.

  ‘Thank you for that, Danish,’ she said.

  ‘You should thank your friends. They did all the work,’ I told her.

  ‘But you listened.’

  We finished packing and stared at each other, wanting to do something but knowing how wrong yet thrilling it would be. But just then, the door was flung open and Megha walked in.

  She lunged headlong at Aisha and said, ‘I should have believed you. I should have believed you.’

  Aisha calmed her down. ‘Tell me what happened,’ asked Aisha.

  ‘He tried to kiss me. We were drunk and so I said no, and he fought with me. He always does that. But yesterday, he blurted out the truth about you,’ she said and hid her face in her hands.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’

  ‘I didn’t think there was anything I could do. I felt . . . I didn’t know what to say.’

  ‘Did he hurt you?’ asked Aisha.

  ‘No,’ she said and started to cry again.

  Aisha held her hand and told her it was okay. She nodded and wiped off her tears.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.’

  Aisha told her they were friends and it wasn’t really her fault, and that she would take care of her.

  54

  Aisha Paul

  Danish made it really easy for me.

  I’m sure I would have felt it sooner or later. He saved me a lot of time. I could easily list down the reason why I knew I was totally in love with him. Here they are in no particular order.

  I stare at my phone when he’s not with me and abandon it when he’s around.

  He makes me feel all warm and cuddly inside.

  And I go from warm and cuddly to hot and bothered in a matter of seconds.

  He kisses me a lot.

  I can be stupid and he never corrects me. He lets me correct myself.

  He lets himself be stupid and lets me correct him all the time. Even when he’s not to be corrected.

  He kisses me a lot.

  He turns me on. After the incident, I didn’t think it was possible but OH MY GOD.

  He notices everything.

  I like dressing up for him. Everything I wear is for his eyes only. And maybe Sarthak’s (he has a keen eye).

  He’s good in bed. Quite giving and that’s important. He shares himself with me. He puts in the work.

  He goes down on me. Always.

  He shares his books with me.

  He’s better than Hellboy.

  He loses to me in Scrabble. Intentionally.

  He taught me how to swim. Though I think we took longer than necessary but I didn’t mind.

  He helped me breathe again.

  He’s GoodReads for me.

  He laughs at my jokes. He makes me feel like I have a career in stand-up comedy.

  He’s good at Mutliplayer Tekken.

  He listens. He really listens. He remembers things I say better than I do.

  He watched Gossip Girl on my insistence. And told me he liked it. That’s a big deal.

  He helped me drink again without having to look over my shoulder. We should all be able to drink without feeling scared or guilty.

  He goes down on me and remains there for an eternity.

  My mother loves him. Well, my mother loves everyone but she really loves him. Like he even gets me jealous sometimes.

  I could make love again. Over and over again.

  He kisses me a lot.

  He gives a lot of attention to my breasts when we are in bed. It feels okay but I like the fact that he likes them.

  He’s older. But he’s also young and wise, and young and stupid.

  He likes me in pyjamas and he likes me in dresses.

  He enjoys it when I come, it’s not a job for him, he doesn’t ask if I am coming, he does his work and prides himself when I come.

  He prefers I pick the venues of our dates.

  He never stares into my phone.

  So, yes, I was pretty sure this was love. If it wasn’t, I was sure anyone else who’s in true love rides unicorns to dates.

  Danish had stopped coming to school, which meant I had to sneak out to see him every day, something he wasn’t too happy about but couldn’t help either. We had promised ourselves we would behave once Erskin and Sarthak went back to Poland and that day came sooner than we had expected it would.

  The day before they left, we planned a party to celebrate and drown ourselves in tears. We ate at our place because we were done fleecing Erskin and the anticipated alcohol bill was enough to burn a hole through our collective pockets.

  Danish, cutely enough, tried to help my mother in the kitchen. He wasn’t socially adept at bonding with mothers, so when I saw him with mine I knew he liked her. But then again, she was my mother, who wouldn’t like her? And that reminded me that she was my mother, and Danish was butting in.

  ‘I will help her,’ I told him.

  My mother kissed Danish on his forehead and asked him to wait at the dining table. He walked past me, smiling, knowing full well how possessive I was about her.

  The dinner was served. It was simple daal and rice and mixed vegetables. We all made sure we ate a lot so none of us would throw up later. We all hugged my mother before we left. Erskin threw in a little surprise for her when he touched her feet and we were all like What! My mother almost cried. If you open your heart to someone you will be surprised to see how much you’re capable of loving someone.

  And talking about loving someone, I couldn’t help keep my hands off Danish in the backseat. I would be a clingy girlfriend. I knew it. It was going to be a part of my destiny. It wasn’t decided whether I was going to run Apple tomorrow or Goldman Sachs, both of them seemed real possibilities, but along with that I would be a clingy girlfriend. I was seemingly good at that.

  ‘I can see everything in the rear-view mirror,’ said Ankit who was driving.

  We reached Raasta, an upmarket pub bang in the middle of Hauz Khas, a venue I had chosen, and ordered for an LIIT (the cocktail for the gods) pitcher before the happy hours got over. We all got shit-housed. Drunk and hammered, Erskin, Ankit and Sarthak took the dance floor by storm. Sarthak and Ankit were great on their feet, and Erskin was a really enthusiastic dancer, stomping the floor like Sunny Deol in his heydays. Danish was pulled in soon after and he aped their steps. I was still on my first drink, going slow at it, and was battling my libido which had skyrocketed.

  ‘Can I borrow him for a minute?’ I asked, grabbing Danish’s hand.

  Sarthak rolled his eyes and Erskin winked at me. I pulled Danish outside the pub. We went straight to the parking lot, paid our driver an extra five hundred to go take a walk and I let Danish please me for the next fifteen minutes. Once done, I fixed my clothes.

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Later,’ I told him.

  His cute face scrunched up and I didn’t feel sorry for him at all. I was allowed to be selfish.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  I grabbed his hand and he dragged his feet behind me, still trying to convince me to having one more go at it.

  We entered the club and found Erskin and Sarthak dancing together on the dance floor.
Still not used to it. We walked the other way. Ankit had already found interesting company. He’s quite charming that way.

  We stood at the bar on the terrace and ordered bright orange cocktails.

  ‘Why do you smile like that?’ I asked.

  ‘What? When?’ he replied, immediately wiping the grin off.

  ‘Shut up, you know you do.’

  ‘I just feel lucky to have you that’s all.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ I said.

  He didn’t flinch.

  ‘Really? Oh my God, that’s so cheesy.’

  I kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘I get really scared sometimes. Because in my head I get increasingly cheesy about you. Like I think how we will be when we are fifty or something and then I’m like how freaked out you might get when I talk to you about it. Oh. I freaked you out, didn’t I? I did. I’m sorry,’ I apologized profusely.

  ‘You don’t have to be sorry. I’m cheesy as hell. I can beat your ass sleeping. You’re nothing. You don’t stand a chance,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t challenge me. It’s going to be another Tekken.’

  ‘Not this time. I’m the daydreaming king when it comes to you. We are getting married in Mussouri.’

  ‘Dehradun,’ I said. ‘I love Dehradun. I already know what you’re going to wear. A purple bowtie.’

  ‘Perfect for someone as extrovert as I am.’

  ‘I knew you would say that. So I decided to convince you after you’re suitably drunk. Also, don’t die before I do. Because I have imagined situations and they were horrible.’

  ‘That’s a tricky predicament. Because I imagined the same and it sucked. And don’t you dare get married to someone else. I have imagined that too and it blew as well.’

  ‘It seems like I have competition. Hmmm . . . I imagined an elaborate sequence of coming to your wedding and breaking it off and running away with you.’

  ‘Insane.’

  ‘I know, right. We are pathetic,’ I said.

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘Please tell me you have imagined yourself as a loving husband and loving father and put me out of my misery.’