Lessons in Love

Your legs shake uncontrollably. You force yourself to stop shaking, closing your fists and taking in a long breath. You check your phone and realise that you still have to let the air out. You do so at once and the redness on your face recedes. You close your eyes trying to calm yourself down and then realise that your legs are shaking again. ‘There is no use thinking about it’, you tell yourself, not the first time tonight and yet you know that you can’t stop thinking about it. You find yourself sitting in the hall of your parents two bedroom house unable to sleep. You keep the lights in the hall switched off so as not to attract any unwarranted attention from the other family members. You usually spend the evenings together with your girl but since you haven’t seen her today the entire day, you yearn for her. You hate staying home while she gets to attend events and parties. Meanwhile you work with old and lame bootlickers who complain that the new startups are captivating all of their clients. 

You feel frustrated not only because of your work situation but also because your girl seems to forget about you whenever she goes out to party. You feel your anger flowing down your body and your fingers tightening around your phone. You want to crush something to rid you of your annoyance. Looking down at your phone you realise it's gone to sleep. You press the power button and draw out your security pattern. You make a mental note to change that since you are clearly fed up drawing this pattern a thousand times a day for the last year or so. Your chat screen pops out. You start reading all those messages you had sent, once again:

‘Hey’

‘I wish you didn’t have to go to that stupid party’

‘I miss you’

‘Just checking if you have read my messages. Missing you’

‘Wow! Must be an awesome party for you to ignore my messages’

‘Hey! Almost midnight now. Have you left?’

‘??’

‘?????’

‘I am worried now. Where are you?’

‘Pls call back as soon as you read’

‘Hello?????’

You notice that the last three messages are left at a single tick. Damn these idiotic privacy settings. You would have to tell her to change that so you can at least know if she has read the message or not. Not a single blue tick. How can she live without knowing whether the other person has read your message or not? It was not normal. You realise you are cussing out loudly. You check yourself and look around towards your parents room. Oh good! They didn’t hear. Else your mom would have dragged you off to bed, lecturing again on the importance of sleep.

You check your phone again, this time unconsciously. There is no change on the chat screen. You check the time on the top right of your screen and it says ten minutes past three. This is when your mind clouds itself in its own prattle.

‘Is she okay?’

‘I can’t believe she wouldn’t check her phone for eight hours!’

‘Damn that bitch. I am done with her. Can’t tolerate this type of behaviour any longer’

‘I love her. I can’t believe she would not reply to any messages’

‘Message her boss macha. He would know’

‘Her boss is a number one pervert. I am sure he is the reason she is not replying’

‘Is she cheating on me?’

‘I always knew she was not trustworthy. She is too beautiful for you macha. I think she realises that now’

‘I hope she’s okay. I want to see her again, touch her, hug her’

‘Was there even a party or was it just a front for her deception’

You login into your social media account. You type in ‘Deepa Dogra’ and instantly tap on her profile. This might give you a bit of a respite. You feel a bit disappointed that there are no new stories although you knew there won’t be all along. She is not a social freak, who posts every minute of her life. You scroll down to her posts and can’t help but smile at a post about the two of you. She is sitting down wearing a sumptuous yellow dress looking sideways at you. You look like a mess wearing a fading grey shirt and hair in a mess. You are looking at her with hope in your eyes and love in your heart, but you don’t think anyone else apart from yourself would understand. The caption reads:

‘Never had to explain myself to this sweet gem of a person @ThilakT. He knows my heart better than I do. #tobeloved #inlove #lovelanguage #Love #Crazyinlove #bestdaysofmylife’

You scroll down some other photos of her. She is beautiful. You silently congratulate yourself on bagging the girl of your dreams and of many others.

After scrolling a bit longer, you realise you can check her friend’s posts on the party. At least that will help with your worrying. ‘Stalker’, you hear your mind accuse but you ignore it. You immediately type in ‘Ananya Gupta’ on the search tab. You know Ananya is socially competitive and unbearable. She would kill someone to post first about her happenings. You are glad her profile is not locked. You scan quickly through her stories and then her posts. There are no new stories yet. Maybe she hasn’t posted them or what if there was no party in the first place. You quickly check the other people you think might be at the party. No luck. Most of their profiles are locked and the rest seem not to be active on the platform.

You feel yourself overcome with a sense of worry and grief. No, it's not grief, it's anger and the realisation that you are unable to do anything to overcome this horrible feeling. You have considered yourself to be a calm person, a person who thinks his way out of problematic situations. You are not able to think any longer though. You feel wild like an animal. You want to shout at someone, anyone. You want to rid yourself of these dreadful thoughts. You bang your fist on the table as hard as you can. You get up from your chair and walk around a bit going around in circles holding your head in your hands cursing yourself. ‘When did I ever become this jealous…this envious’, you think to yourself. You realise you are losing control of your mind but you are unable to do anything about it. You are afraid of losing her and yet you know that you can’t keep up with this ghastly state of mind. You decide that you need a distraction and a considerable intake of nicotine. You keep some money in the pockets of your shorts and twirling the keys of your bike on your finger, sneak out of the house quietly. You decide not to carry your phone as it will only force you to relive those emotions of helplessness. This is not the first time you are doing so and pride yourself on being quite an expert on silently leaving your house. You climb down three flights of stairs to the parking lot. You wake up the security guard and ask him to open the gate. You hand him some money and he nods once, assuring you of his silence. You start your bike with a loud thump sounding even more boisterous than usual in the peace of the night. You look around to check if anyone heard you and seeing no one around, you ride your bike through the gate out into the dark open road. 

You arrive at your regular haunt where an old man with sparse white hair and a rugged beard, standing beside a bicycle, is handing out cigarettes and coffee to the other insomniacs. You walk towards the old man and hand him fifty rupees, raising three fingers towards him with your other hand. He gives you a knowing smile and hands you three of your regular sticks and hands back the change. You pick up a matchbox kept on the bicycle’s seat and put it away in your pocket. You sit on your bike and ride away to find a quiet and deserted space where you can smoke to find peace. As you are riding you chance upon an idea. You turn your bike around, picking up a bit of speed you ride on with determination. You slow down as you see the apartments coming into view. You pass its main gate and a granite board fixed alongside the gate which reads ‘Tulip Heights’.

There is a bus stop opposite the building and a few shops. You make a U-turn and park your bike close to the bus stop. It’s not lit, it is never lit and it is vacant. The shops are closed with only a few spread out street lights illuminating the path. You make your way towards the dark bus stop and make yourself comfortable. You wait for a couple of minutes checking for unwanted people and being wary of police vans making rounds. Feeling safe and completely alone, you light your first cigarette. You let out a long breath leaving behind a long residue of smoke. You smile for the first time that night as your body absorbs the nicotine, relaxing your tensed up muscles and unburdening your mind. 

You recall the events of tonight. You chide yourself for losing control of your feelings and being miserable. The nicotine is helping. You love her. You remember the time when you had a massive crush on her and couldn’t bring up the courage to talk to her. An act of God had made her approach you and somehow you had managed to utter a few words to her without sounding creepy or a complete joker. Over time she laughed at your nervous attempts to be funny and your heart was filled with happiness. You had built up the courage to tell her that you love her and hearing that, she held you in a gripping embrace and kissed you for the first time ever. You remember the feeling vividly. Your heart had stopped and blasts of joy and relief had burst inside you. Everytime you kissed her since then, those blasts reoccurred. ‘You love her’, you call out loudly to yourself as if trying to forcefully exterminate the doubts you had about her. Thinking back, you can’t believe that you had doubted her or you had called her names. She had made you mad innumerable times in the past but she always came through. Her love for you was true and undying. ‘But isn’t jealousy the purest form of love? Isn’t it wild and raw and instinctive’, a small voice inside you responds as if defending itself. ‘Yes that might be’,  you scold that inner voice, ‘But it doesn’t mean you have to act like a fool.’ 

You flick the burnt out cigarette with your index and quietly admire the distance it has travelled. You light up your second cigarette and stretch out your legs underneath you, feeling completely relaxed for the first time tonight. You let yourself be absorbed in your surroundings. The street light nearest to you has started flickering with the brightness dimming further. You sense the remote sounds of traffic, puffing away calmly. Midway through the cigarette, you notice a black sedan stopping right in front of the entrance to Tulip Heights. You sit up straight and watch with keen eyes as the driver climbs out of the car. You can’t make out his face cause it’s dark but you can tell by the way he is moving that he is intoxicated. He stumbles down to the other end of the car bumping into the back of the car twice. He opens the passenger door at the front and offers his hand out. A woman climbs out of her seat holding the driver’s hand. A jolt runs throughout your body making you stand up. You can’t make out her features but she definitely looks like Deepa. You hurry out on the road and cross the road stealthily trying to get a better look. The two of them are standing together holding each other close, whispering to each other. You are desperate for a look at the girl hoping and praying it’s not Deepa. You take one last long drag of the cigarette and throw it away, treading softly towards the back of the car. The darkness of the night hides your approach. You hear shy and restraining giggles from the woman and overly confident chuckles from the man. You are now standing right behind the car. You can almost smell them now. They smell of alcohol and raging hormones. You see the man holding the woman tightly to him. You bend and balance down on your heels braving yourself to go nearer to get a closer look. Your eyes have recognised your promiscuous girlfriend but your heart, beating rapidly in denial, needs further proof. 

You force yourself to the edge of the car, your lethargic body moaning in protests. You strain your hearing trying to listen in to their conversation. 

‘I had a great time tonight. I am sure to thank Ananya for setting us up’, you hear the man say in a deep voice, sounding almost like a roar but a low one

‘I think I better go. It is quite late. I don’t want to keep standing here. The watchmen will spread stories about me’ says Deepa staring deep into the man’s eyes.

‘Well! The offer to spend the night is still open, if you are willing’. You hear the man chuckle softly leaning in close to Deepa.

You see him lock his lips with her. She doesn’t push him back. She doesn’t retreat. All she does is force herself closer to him responding to his attacking lips with her own.

You stare disbelieving. You are sure your eyes will pop out of your head or your heart will stop. You are frozen in indecision, in shock. You sit there for an eternity before she pats his chest and pulls out from the kiss.

‘Not today. Maybe if you were a good boy, you will get lucky very soon.’ Deepa giggled. She reaches out in the car to grab her Da Milano handbag, which you had gifted her on her birthday. She gives him a peck on the lips again and walks towards her apartment, looking back and waving at the man. The man stays there a while, looking at her disappear into the building. He climbs to the driver’s seat, climbing through the passenger seat, starts his car and then drives away. 

All this while, you are crouched frozen in stance. You can’t make out if your brain is functioning or not. You can’t hear any thoughts. Your heart has most definitely been dead ever since you saw them kiss. You go down on your knees with your forehead bowing low enough to touch the dusty road. You try to cry but the tears just won’t come. You try to shout but you have lost your voice. You try to get up but all your energy has left you. You lay down on the road till you hear a car honking and your eyes sense the bright lights. Your body reacts and you jump away to get away from the incoming vehicle. The driver stops the car hailing insults at you. You don’t bother even looking at him and start walking towards your bike. The car speeds away probably considering you are simple minded. You start your bike not sure whether it’s safe to ride in this state of mind and yet you know no amount of pain can hurt you more than you are hurting now.

You reach home and enter your house, not bothering to keep the noise down. Nothing matters to you anymore. It’s still dark outside and you feel as if your surroundings are reflecting the state of your soul. You go to the kitchen to have a glass of water and instead you gulp down an entire bottle. It does not help the pain. You feel heavy and exhausted. You sit down on the sofa with Deepa’s betrayal still fresh in your memory. You try to push the image away but it keeps coming back incessantly. Needing a distraction, you pick up your phone from where you had left it. You notice you have a chat notification. You tap on it twice mindlessly. You look towards the phone with blank eyes. The message is from Deepa. You read it once and then you read it again. You scroll up and read the earlier messages she had sent and you scroll on down to the latest ones. Emotions come rushing back to you and your heart is pumping blood again. Your body feels like it’s imploding and the pain in the muscles returns. Breathing becomes a challenge, ragged and short. Your eyes are forced shut with unbearable pain. Tears well up, first slowly and then moments later you are raining thunderstorms. You cry out loudly and wildly punching the air around you swinging to take down your demons. You kick your legs trying to hit something, anything. The pain has you in its grip now. You can’t escape. You can’t overcome it. The pain makes you open your eyes and stare down at the screen again. You read her replies once again.

‘Hey Baby’

‘I missed you too’

‘I was so bored today. I was wishing for you to be there’

‘My phone has been acting weird all day till it finally conked off’

‘Came back home sometime back’

‘I love you’

‘Can’t wait for you to hold me and kiss me’

‘Goodnight’

The pain hits again. You are hurting all over. Your heart is angry and your mind is broken. Your soul has probably left you. You sit and stare at the screen trying to make sense of it all. The pain hits you again and again. You sit and stare at those messages from your love till the pain gets tired. Or maybe you have gone numb. You know the pain will come back but for now the numbness allows you to close your eyes. You fall into a slumber. You know the pain will come back when the numbness blows over but for now you let yourself rest. Daylight cracks outside scaring the darkness away. It’s the dawn of another day. Another day of life, another day of love.