Ohh Yes, I'm Single: And so is my Girlfriend Page 6

  ‘Promise?’ he asked me, tears of anger in his eyes.

  ‘On my life! On our friendship,’ I said, in earnest.

  And nothing was fine. Sidharth spent three entire weeks locked up at his place, reminding me of the times I have done the same; we are pretty vulnerable boys it seems. He wasn’t picking up anyone’s calls, not even mine. His parents called me up to ask what had gone wrong and I gave them some lame excuse which they didn’t buy; our parents are usually smarter than what we give them credit for. It was freaking me out. Sidharth was not the kind of guy who would be hung up over something for too long. Something big was going to happen this time, and I feared that, and I had to be a part of it, I had promised.

  The fourth week, he showed up. He stood beneath my balconyand made roaring noises on the engine of his bike. I smelled trouble. He motioned me to get on the bike and refused to say anything as we sped across the streets of our neighbourhood. No words were exchanged. As we crossed the third signal, we were joined by three other bikes and a big car full of menacing, angry people. The road filled up with roars of engines and people shouting and cursing their lungs out. The guys in the car looked dangerous. I would have pissed my pants had I not been on the same side as them.

  The ex-boyfriend’s worst nightmare was to come true that day. We screeched to a halt outside a college. We waited.

  I saw a big guy step down from the car; I dared not say anything, because I don’t think I had seen such anger in anyone’s eyes before. They were brimming with unbridled rage. Ganesh.

  ‘Joy.’

  ‘Hi, Ganesh,’ I said. Even though he was on my side, I was still shitting in my pants, my eyes on the knuckle-buster he had already slipped his hand into.

  ‘I heard you were stopping Sidharth from beating up the asshole,’ he said, as he put his hand around me. He took a puff on the cigarette that dangled from the edge of his mouth and waited for an answer.

  ‘I just thought, why get into all this trouble … you know,’ I said.

  ‘Ohh, that’s where you got it wrong, beta. We are not getting into any trouble. The other guy is,’ he laughed and the guys with him echoed the same laughter.

  ‘So what do you plan to do with him?’ I asked.

  ‘Whatever he plans,’ Ganesh smiled and pointed at Sidharth. The smile on Ganesh’s face was really unpleasant, almost gruesome.

  All this while, Sidharth didn’t flinch; he wore a deadpan expression, though his eyes were furious. He had not shaved in many days and looked sinister. He was focused on the man who was to come out from that college gate.

  ‘That’s him,’ Sidharth said.

  And then, I recognized the guy whom I had seen on Facebook. Aman, the poor ex-boyfriend—like a lamb walking to its slaughter. I am sure that when he woke up this morning he would have had no idea how his day would end. I started feeling sorry for him.

  He came out casually and looked around for his car. He couldn’t find it because Ganesh and his goons had pulled the car away from the college gate to a more deserted location, though still visible. And then, after a few minutes of looking around, Aman spotted it a few hundred yards away from where he had initially parked. Surprised, he started walking towards it. Poor guy knew nothing of what was coming for him. Secretly, I wished he would run away from Ganesh and Sidharth; no one deserved what he was about to go through.

  Minutes later, he was in front of his car, four bikes and twelve people blocking his way.

  ‘Uhh …’ he said. ‘What … is all this?’

  ‘I will tell you bacchha, what is all this,’ Ganesh said, as he walked towards him. ‘Do you know him?’ And he pointed to Sidharth. He patted Aman’s face, more like slapped it.

  ‘Sidharth? What … what are you doing … here? And look, I am … sorry … I …’ he stuttered and stammered. Ganesh looked at him, smiled, and stepped back as Sidharth walked up to him, his eyes firmly stuck on him. Aman looked like he was staring right at his death, and he wasn’t far from the truth either. Please don’t kill him, I said to myself.

  ‘Take this,’ Ganesh said and handed over the iron knuckle to Sidharth.

  Aman looked at the knuckle and his face looked like he was about to cry. He would get no mercy that day.

  ‘Too late for an apology, buddy,’ Sidharth said.

  ‘But …’

  That was the only sound that came out his mouth before Sidharth’s iron-knuckled fist went smashing into his upper jaw and blood splattered on the ground. Once, twice, thrice. He stumbled on the ground. As he staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth, Sidharth swung his heel on his shin, breaking his stance and sending him crashing to the ground again. He caught the man by his hair and spat on his face. Aman turned on his side and had just started to say something, bleeding from his nose and mouth, when Sidharth kicked him in the ribs twice with crushing force. Aman curled into a ball on the ground. Satisfied, Sidharth walked away, smiling at Ganesh.

  ‘All yours,’ he said to him, giving him the bloodstained iron knuckle back.

  Seconds later, five men were kicking Aman right in the ribs where Sidharth had first hit him. After a while, with blood splattered across his face and his shirt and the ground on which he lay, he passed out.

  Ganesh stripped him, threw his car keys and his clothes in the gutter nearby, punctured all his tyres, smashed the windows and the rear view mirrors and left him bleeding there. I just wished he wouldn’t die there. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t Ganesh’s first time. Though I hoped it would be the last for me.

  I can never get these images out of my head; the first few punches that had landed on that guy’s face and the spattering of blood all over the car wasn’t as scary as the ferocious animal cries that Sidharth had let out while hitting him. We went back home and Sidharth washed his bloodied clothes and hands. He was smiling. A sense of calm pervaded his face.

  ‘He won’t die, right?’ I asked.

  He laughed.

  That was the day I learnt to fear being on the wrong side of love. It’s dangerous and it’s damaging. You can find yourself naked in an empty street with a few missing teeth, and it’s a high price to pay for love.

  ‘What if there is a police case?’ I asked him.

  ‘You think I am that stupid?’ Sidharth asked. ‘Aman is a nobody. Ganesh rules the streets. Nobody can touch him. And as a result nobody can touch me.’

  ‘But what if he comes with men of his own and comes after you,’ I asked, a little fearful.

  ‘I would really like him to try and do that. Because I think I would like to have another go at this guy. In fact, I would love it if he comes and tries that. Maybe next time around, you can swing in a few kicks, too,’ he laughed. ‘You told me you would stand next to me, but all you did was stand in the corner like a pussy.’

  ‘Oh? Was I? Didn’t you see me do my cheerleader dance while you were beating him to death? This wasn’t funny, and it was fucking dangerous.’

  ‘I said the same to myself when I got cheated on—not funny,’ he said.

  ‘But what did you get out of it?’

  ‘Vani will always think of me whenever she sees his ugly face.’

  I had nothing to say to that. We never heard from Aman or Vani ever again. You don’t cross a madman twice. Period.

  ‘You guys are savages,’ I said, horrified at what Joy had just told me.

  ‘What? Me? I didn’t do anything!’ Joy defended himself.

  ‘But you could have stopped them.’

  ‘What? Stop Ganesh? No one messes with him. You know, when he left the scene, he scratched his name on the hood of the car just to tell the local police that it was his doing. No one can touch him …’

  ‘But Sidharth? You could have persuaded him, he was your friend.’

  ‘If you had seen him, you wouldn’t say this. Those intense eyes, man,’ he said. ‘I was helpless! I am sure, had I said anything, he would have swung his fist at me, too.’

  ‘Aww! Poor you. And I would certainly hate stitche
s across your dimple,’ I said and pulled his cheeks. Joy always looked pretty average to me. The only part that I liked about his looks was the deep gash on his face—his dimple; he’s a cute boy, but not my type.

  ‘What next?’ I asked.

  ‘The first year of my engineering ended with that. And the second year went without any incident either. But as soon as the third year began, things began to happen.’

  ‘What things?’ I asked.

  ‘My first true and everlasting love.’

  ‘First love? What was Sheeny then?’

  ‘There is a difference! That was my first true love. This one was supposed to be everlasting! I was so sure about this girl I had everything planned. Like long term, like really long term, like thinking of baby names and shit, typical movie stuff. She was everything to me!’

  ‘You look so adorable right now as you say it.’

  ‘As in?’ he said.

  ‘You look like you are in love!’ I said.

  ‘Shut up,’ he said, a little embarrassed.

  ‘Who was she?’

  ‘Manika,’ Joy said. ‘Smarter than anyone I had ever met, funnier than anyone, hotter than anyone, better-looking than Aphrodite herself. She was a goddess! She was my love!’

  The First True and Everlasting Love—Part 1

  The incident with Sidharth taught me two lessons—Do a background check if you plan a fuck-up.

  Second—Don’t worry. Sidharth and Ganesh will always be there. Go, fuck-up!

  After Vani became history, Sidharth went back to his old ways, only this time around he was being a bigger asshole than earlier. He got into multiple relationships at a time, and dumped girls by the hour. It had been a year since the break-up and Sidharth’s fling business just kept on rising; my advice to let it go fell on deaf ears. He used to hit on the most random girls possible. Facebook, supermarkets, clubs, pubs … he tried everything.

  But then, one day, he found something that was better than all these places.

  Private rave parties.

  These were underground parties, mostly in garages in farmhouses, very covert and darn expensive; rich kids only. Often people weren’t allowed to park their cars within a two-mile radius and had to take autos to get to that place. No flashy clothes. Every precaution was taken to avoid the common man’s eye. One had to pay upwards of ten thousand a night and know many important people (or be white) just to get into those packed garages with junkies sprawled across everywhere and smoking their brains out.

  From LSD, mushrooms, ecstasy, acid and cocaine, to the lower drugs like charas and ganja, everything flowed freely there. Cash worth tens of lakhs changed hands in a single night. Sidharth had been going to these parties on a regular basis now, and I held out for a couple of months before I finally gave in (as you know by now, I have always been scared).

  ‘C’mon, man. Let’s go. It will be fun. You will like it,’ Sidharth insisted.

  ‘I can’t! I just don’t have that kind of money on me now,’ I said. ‘And I don’t even drink, or smoke! I don’t even know how to do any of those things, and if you ask me, you should stop going to those places as well.’

  ‘Shut up, Mom. Don’t worry about the money, my father just hit a purple patch, and who else is he earning for? I am paying.’

  ‘I am not convinced he’s earning for his son and his friend to attend raves,’ I smirk.

  ‘I think you should eat my dick, but for now, let’s go!’

  ‘I have no interest in drugs, man. And neither should you. Let’s just hang out someplace else.’

  ‘It’s not about the drugs, asshole. It’s about the women! They are scantily dressed, knocked out of their senses and they are falling all over each other! You have no idea how these girls behave after an ecstasy pill enters their bloodstream. They are like nymphomaniacs on their dying day. It’s going to be great. Trust me.’

  ‘Fine. I will come,’ I said. ‘Although it’s not because of what you said, but because I want you to shut up talking like a pervert.’

  ‘Look who’s talking man! You’re the one who dumped your ex-girlfriend after sleeping with her, and you sent her to Bangalore, far away from you just to get rid of her,’ he mocked.

  ‘Let’s not go there,’ I grumbled. He nodded.

  I wasn’t really excited, but I wanted to see if Sidharth was lying; usually he never did. It took us three hours to get there, and we ran out of petrol twice and I begged him to turn around but he said we were too close to go back now; I had nothing to say, and I am glad I didn’t.

  It was pretty late when we reached, and we were frisked and asked scores of questions, which Sidharth answered with ease, before the monstrous guards let us in. The gigantic basement of the farmhouse lit up in red and green and blue, was already teeming with people; music reverberated within the walls. The experience was something I had never imagined. Sidharth had described the place a million times earlier, but seeing it with my own eyes was a different experience altogether. People lay around like corpses, danced like zombies; it was terrifying in the beginning, it seemed straight out of a Resident Evil movie, and I thought people would start biting each other any moment, and well, some of them were doing exactly that, glazed eyes and all. For somebody like me who wasn’t even into drinking, it was a shock.

  ‘Have this!’ Sidharth shouted.

  ‘What is this?’ I shouted back in his ear.

  ‘Just drink!’ he said and forced the drink down my throat. It tasted funny, pungent. Sidharth disappeared, smiling at me, waving thumbs-up signs and winking. Within minutes, I knew something was wrong. Sidharth disappeared and soon, I found myself in a crowd of swaying young men and women, many of whom were shirtless and sweating. Nobody seemed to have any sense of control as they all fell over each other, laughing, cursing. Bodies walked towards and collapsed on the couches kept in the corners. Zombies, I couldn’t think of any other word that correctly described them, and also me. Slowly, the lights became vibrant and intense. I could almost feel the lights and sounds … I was soon fucking high, stoned or whatever it was; it felt great. I was flying over things, landing over things. It was freaking strange. Noise and extreme silence invaded my mind alternatively. I felt powerful, invincible.

  Though after a while, I don’t know how much because time is meaningless when you’re high, nausea followed and I threw up twice in the washroom. Had I discovered where Sidharth was, I would have knocked his teeth out (kind of impossible, but I sure would have tried). My head felt like it would burst and lie splattered in my palms. I started to look for Sidharth and couldn’t find him. There were people kissing and making out and licking each other’s faces everywhere; it wasn’t hot, it was disgusting.

  The debauchery of the night just kept stepping up in tempo. Random girls making out with random boys, changing boys, two guys with a girl, two girls on a guy. And when I say making out, it means making out. Not cute stuff, but nasty stuff. Shocking!

  Slowly, the nausea went away and I could walk straight without bumping into people. Had someone narrated this to me, I would have probably never believed it, but this happened right in front of my eyes. These places were run by very powerful people and run very secretly. Many of these joints happened to earn more in a night than a regular club earned in a month.

  ‘First night here?’ someone shouted in my ear. More than the sound, I felt the breath in my ears, it was warm.

  ‘Yes,’ I shouted back.

  ‘No drugs?’ she asked.

  I shook my head. I looked at her and could only see her eyes and teeth glinting in the UV lights that lit up the place; she looked freaky.

  ‘Good,’ she shouted. ‘Want to go out for some fresh air?’

  She pointed at the gate and we started to walk towards it. Normally, I wouldn’t go alone with any unknown girl (because I am a wimp), but that night called for heroics. Girls and guys were jumping all around us, trying to pull us into the crowd. We fought, pushed and made our way outside. The bouncers at the gate shook th
eir heads and only let us out when she flashed a thousand rupee note. He let her go. As I tried to slip past the guard, he stopped me. What? A thousand bucks just to go out? I fished out the money from my wallet and gave it away reluctantly. That’s my three weeks’ pocket money, you big, muscular asshole!

  ‘Why are you here?’ she asked as she lit up her cigarette.

  ‘A friend tagged me along. He has contacts and all.’

  ‘Obviously he has,’ she said and offered me a smoke. Immediately, I was intimidated by her presence. There is something about girls and smoking that always turns me on, maybe it’s the fact that they are dying slowly and they are reckless at the same time; it’s an interesting mix of sympathy and awe.

  ‘Why are you here?’ I asked, although going by her confidence, she looked like a regular at a place like this.

  ‘The second girl you kissed today … that was my sister,’ she said, without a change in expression.

  ‘What? I? I didn’t …’

  ‘Yes, after that friend bought you that drink, you went around like a madman, grabbing and groping everybody. Don’t be sorry about it, you obviously don’t remember and I hold no grudges,’ she said and took a puff, still very dispassionate about the whole incident. ‘People are their real selves after they are high. Maybe you’re just a deprived pervert.’

  ‘I am NOT a deprived pervert! I am NOT,’ I said, my voice trailed as I tried to remember what had happened.

  ‘Stop thinking about it, it will not come back,’ she said. ‘It never does. It’s called a blackout.’

  What the fuck? She was reading my mind!

  ‘So you are here with her?’ I asked.

  ‘She will go into rehab tomorrow. She wanted one last night here. I had to come with her,’ she said. ‘I would have never come to this place, bunch of stupid rich kids destroying their lives.’

  ‘I am neither rich, nor am I destroying myself. And I am sorry I kissed your sister!’ I defended myself.