2 States: The Story of My Marriage Read online

  ‘No,’ I screamed and sat up. ‘Are you stupid? You, of all people, are asking me if I am gay.’

  ‘I heard they make you do all sorts of stuff in ragging.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t that bad. I had a girlfriend.’

  ‘Really?’ She blinked. ‘How come you never told me!’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over. It ended when I left college, two years ago.’

  ‘Why? Who was she? A student?’

  ‘Prof’s daughter.’

  ‘My, my, my! We have a stud here.’ Then, ‘Pretty? Prettier than me?’

  I looked at Ananya. Why do women size each other up in looks so much?

  ‘Similar, though you are smarter,’ I said.

  ‘Similar?’

  ‘OK, you are better looking,’ I said. The girl who asks the question is the better looking one, always.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said as she stepped off the bed to wear her track pants. ‘Why did it end?’

  ‘I sort of had a deal with her father.’

  ‘Father? What, he bought you out? Gave you a blank cheque like in films?’ she laughed.

  ‘No, he let me have my degree on time. Because of which I am here. But the implicit deal was, don’t push it. Don’t dream of being family. There was no future, so it died.’

  My throat closed up as I thought about my previous girlfriend. Somehow, it never really gets over with an ex. You merely learn to push their thoughts aside. Unless someone prods your brain again to think of them. ‘Can we leave it now?’

  ‘Where is she now? Campus?’

  ‘No, father went to the US to a senior faculty post in MIT. She found a geeky guy of the same community. Engaged in six months, married in a year. Rest I don’t know. Now, even though we were naked a few moments ago, I do think I can make a case for invasion of privacy.’

  ‘Well, it affects me. In case you are still involved with her.’

  ‘I’m not. It took me a long time to get over her, but I am not involved anymore.’

  ‘Did you love her?’

  ‘Yes. And I feel sick I didn’t have the courage to fight her father. And no more talk about her please,’ I said. My ex-girlfriend and my father were off-limit topics.

  ‘One last question. Is she South Indian?’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘You mentioned IIT, MIT, geeky software programmer, it wasn’t that hard.’

  I laughed.

  ‘My parents are pretty conservative too,’ she said, switching on her electric kettle.

  ‘We haven’t planned to get married yet.’

  She stared at me. I wondered if I had said the wrong thing. I was being factual.

  ‘You are right. We are just friends with benefits, right? Or what is it? Fuck buddies?’

  She looked upset. It is amazing how the vulnerability in a relationship shifts from the guy to the girl after you’ve had sex.

  ‘Hey, we. . . .’

  But she interrupted me, ‘Sorry, I am freaking out. Have tea.’ She passed me a cup. I twiddled with the handle for two minutes. Despite the sexual possibilities, we still had to study.

  ‘Should we open the HR case? It is about a strike in a hotel,’ I said as I opened my folder.

  She nodded without eye contact. I racked my brains hard on what I could say that could make her feel better. ‘I love you,’ I said.

  She carefully closed her case materials and looked up at me. ‘Mean it?’ she said, her eyes wet.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘You are not just saying it so you can have sex with me again?’

  ‘No. But are you saying that. . . .’

  ‘I am not saying anything. Is that all you think about?’

  ‘We study together, eat together, go out together, sit in class looking at each other all day, the only time we are apart is when I have to go to sleep or when I have to use the toilet. So,’ I paused.

  ‘So what?’

  ‘I love you, damn it! Don’t you get it?’ I yelled.

  ‘That’s better. Now you sound convincing,’ she smiled.

  ‘And you?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m going to think about it.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Well, I could be only using you for sex,’ she said.

  ‘Excuse me?’ I said, this time louder.

  She laughed. I threw a pillow at her.

  ‘I told you, I have to think about it.’

  Even though she never said ‘I love you’, Ms Swaminathan moved in with me. I had freaked out about the idea when she arrived at my room one day with a backpack for overnight clothes. I’d have much preferred her place, as I didn’t want her to be the only woman in the dorm with twenty testosterone-charged men.

  Still, it was kind of nice. She brought her electric kettle, sweet smile and Maggi-making abilities with her. While we used to study together earlier, now there was even more discipline. When a woman comes into your life, things organise themselves.

  We woke up in the morning, she half an hour earlier than me. She would rush to her dorm a hundred metres away and bathe there. I’d get ready and meet her at the mess for breakfast.

  ‘This is your assignment and this is my quant worksheet.’ She’d take out the stack of work from last night and divide it in the mess. We’d go to class together, and if Kanyashree was in a good mood, she’d switch places with Ananya for a day. Otherwise, we’d take our original seats and stare at each other through class. The five Mohits were quite amused at first, but later adjusted quite well and turned to check us out only when the lecture got boring. In fact, her moving in with me created a mini scandal. Like it always happens, I earned the tag of a stud. And she earned tags ranging from stupidly-in-love to slut. But it didn’t matter to her as maybe she was stupidly in love. Every day in class, she would pass me a note.

  ‘I miss you. Can’t wait to cuddle with you after class,’ it said, and it came to me via Ankur, Anoop, Bipin, Bhupin, Bhanu, ten other students and Kanyashree. We lived with each other, yet she missed me in class from six rows away.

  ‘Stop sending such notes in class. People will open them,’ I warned.

  ‘You are no fun,’ she replied with several sad smilies. Bipin smiled as he passed that note. OK, so someone had entertainment in class.

  ‘You are a whisker away from being in the top ten. One more A in the statistics final exam and you are there,’ she said one night three months after she had moved in with me.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m studying so much. In IIT, all we’d do is chat all night.’ I switched off the lights.

  ‘We could chat all night,’ she said as we tucked under the quilt together.

  ‘About what? And why? We are with each other all the time. Why sacrifice sleep?’

  ‘Still, we could talk. Future plans and stuff.’

  The word ‘future’ and females is a dangerous combination. Still, in a business school future could merely mean placement. ‘We’ve good grades. You’ll easily get HLL. It is the best marketing job, right? And I’ll go for WPM.’

  ‘WPM?’

  ‘Whoever pays more, so I can save as much money as fast as possible,’ I grinned.

  ‘You still serious about becoming a writer, right?’ She ran her fingers through my hair.

  ‘Yes, but I’m still wondering what I’d write about,’ I yawned.

  ‘About anything. Like that girlfriend of yours.’

  ‘Ananya, we had a pact. We will not talk about my ex-girlfriend again.’

  ‘Sorry, sorry. You said you had a deal with the Prof for grades, so I thought maybe it will make an interesting story.’

  ‘Good night, my strategist.’ I kissed her and lay down.

  ‘I love you,’ she said.

  ‘Mean it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How come you said it now?’

  ‘I think about it a lot. I only articulated it now. Good night,’ she said.

  One-and-a-half years later

  ‘Tell me your thoughts