You Were My Crush: Till You Said You Love Me! (14 page)

BOOK: You Were My Crush: Till You Said You Love Me!
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Chapter Thirty-two

‘C’mon, Benoy, that girl is hot,’ Diya said.

She pointed out someone in our Career Launcher class. I had noticed her, too. Yes, she was cute. However, my definition of being cute had changed since I met Shaina. For me, she was the only cute person in the world and she defined the word for me, and she defined a lot of other words like love and forever and happiness and heartbreak and what not.

‘We’re just on the third question! Let’s concentrate,’ I said.

We had attended three classes and all she could do was point out girls I could possibly hit on. This was the English class, so I could still tolerate her, but she was even doing it in the mathematics class, and it was irritating.

‘No, Diya, I liked no one!’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I am sure! And stop worrying about me so much. You can see that I am fine now. I am over her.’

‘Okay, I am getting late. I should go now,’ she said. Manoj’s parents were coming over to her place that day; it was a pre-engagement ritual and Diya was already late for it. I was sure that by that time Shaina would have already got ready in some elegant-looking ethnic wear. Diya told me Shaina had decided on a bright red sari.

‘Do you want me to drop you?’

‘No, I will be fine. Will you be okay?’ she asked.

‘I will be fine. Now
go
! Or you will be late. I can’t believe she’s getting engaged today. Wish her luck.’

‘She’s not getting engaged today. We are just calling pandits over and they will choose an auspicious date within the next month,’ she clarified.

‘Same thing,’ I answered.

I hugged her and saw her off.

This function was just the beginning of it; in a few days she would get engaged, and then maybe get married after a year or two; I was screwed. Diya had tried convincing her parents against getting Shaina engaged so soon, but her parents did not budge. They felt their daughter had disgraced them and they wanted to arrive at an engagement date sooner than soon. They came from a very conservative community and the news of a girl’s affair travelled far and wide in a matter of days. A roka, or a formal union like an engagement, was the only way they could have stopped people from talking dirty about their daughter. Shaina had not said anything.

I drove my way back home, knowing well that Dad must have made an elaborate plan to straighten out my mood. Dad, too, had made some major changes. He had sold off
some of his businesses so that he had more time to spend with me. A little late in the day, but I guessed he did not want to screw up the second time around.

We had started drinking together, and what is better to soothe broken relationships than a couple of beers every day? We drank like tankers that day. Usually Dad stopped me after a few beers, but that day, he just let me drink till I knocked myself out.

Till the time I hadn’t passed out, I had to try hard to keep back my tears every time I imagined Shaina in her
bright red
, exquisite ethnic wear, in a ceremony with someone else.

I knew the pain would never go.

Chapter Thirty-three

The next day, my head hurt; I found myself tucked inside a blanket on the couch where I must have passed out the night before. My phone had a few missed calls and I looked around to see if my dad was there. He was not.
He is probably sleeping
, I thought. I got up groggily and brushed my teeth. I came back and picked up my cell phone.

Within ten seconds, I was wide awake and staring at the screen; it was like someone had punched me in the stomach. There were thirteen missed calls from Shaina and two texts asking me to call her as soon as possible.

My heart raced, and I daydreamed that she had called it off and had run away from her home, or maybe she had managed to convince her parents. My hands trembled as I made that call, hoping to find a frantic and apologetic Shaina on the other side, dying to get back with me. Blood rushed through my veins, my face flushed and felt warm as I could not hold back my excitement. I paced around the
room and hoped for good news on the other side of the phone. I was hopeful.

The first call. No answer.
Probably Shaina is busy explaining to everybody why she wants to call it off.

The second call. No answer.
Probably Diya is telling her how right she is in her decision.

The third call. No answer.
Probably they are discussing how to tackle me and how to tell me that they are sorry.

The fourth call. She cut the call. And then my phone beeped. It was a text from Shaina. I read the text. Once aloud, and once in my head, just to make sure …

 

Reach AIIMS hospital as soon as possible.

My heart beat faster than it already was, but I was scared now. I took a few deep breaths and leaned against the door. Hospital?

On my way to the hospital I wondered if Dad had got Manoj beaten up, and that was why they had called me. But he wouldn’t do that without asking me. Even if he did get Manoj beaten up, I didn’t feel sorry for him.

I checked for a familiar name or a surname in the admissions register. The nurse noticed me losing it, and helped me out; she checked the registers herself and told me Ms Gupta was admitted in the ICU. It wasn’t Manoj who was hurt.

Shaina Gupta? Diya Gupta? Or their mom?

I walked briskly towards the stairs, struggling to stay in control. The corridors were crowded with people and doctors ambling around. A few men were sleeping on the
floor, some waited outside closed doors, crying and sobbing. I tried to think the best I could. Once I reached the second floor, I ran uncontrollably towards the operation theatre. I spotted Shaina in a bright red sari, her face buried in her palms, crying softly; I was relieved to see she was all right. I looked for Diya and her mom but couldn’t find either one of them.

‘What happened?’ I asked as I went up to Shaina. I resisted an urge to hug her. Seeing her cry was just wrong.

‘Diya …’ she said. Her voice trailed off. I saw other people standing at a distance. A woman was crying uncontrollably in a corner with two women who tried to console her while they cried too. A couple of men were talking animatedly in the corner.

‘What happened to her?’ I asked. Before she could answer I saw Manoj walk towards me—big strides and anger writ on his face. ‘Benoy,’ I said. I shook his hand. His expression did not change. He hugged Shaina, who disappeared into his arms.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

He looked at Shaina, took her away and made her sit on one of the steel benches. He came back to where I was standing. I already did not like him. His eyes were vacant and there was something inherently evil in him.

‘She had an accident,’ he said. ‘She was coming home in a rickshaw and a truck knocked it over. The rickshaw puller died on the spot. She’s out of danger now and though she will live, the doctors have asked for another forty-eight hours.’

‘Has she regained consciousness?’ I asked.

‘Once,’ he answered.

‘Why the fuck didn’t you call me earlier?’ I said, furious.

‘You have no business here, Benoy. The doctors are taking care of her,’ he said, staring me down.

‘Go to hell,’ I said and walked away to call Dad. His phone was unreachable and I dropped in a text explaining the turn of events.

I waited outside the door, with the crying, lamenting women and the two of them—Shaina and Manoj. I did not want to punch Manoj in his face and exacerbate their woes.
I have caused all this
. Diya was not supposed to attend the Career Launcher class that day. Had she not come for the class, she would have never taken the rickshaw.
I am responsible.

Dad called me back and within an hour he was there. Walking beside him was the director and a senior doctor at AIIMS, Dr Juneja. My father introduced the doctor to an elderly man, Shaina’s dad, and the doctor assured him everything would be okay.

‘Mr Gupta, don’t worry,’ Dr Juneja said to Shaina’s dad.

They were joined by Mrs Gupta. She was still crying and covered her mouth with her pallu to drown out the cries.

‘Bhaisahib, you can do anything … please save my child, please save my child,’ she cried.

‘Don’t worry, behen, very experienced doctors are taking care of Diya. I am sure things will be fine. He’s the director and he will personally take care of this case,’ Dad said.

A few more doctors joined in the conversation. They said a few things in medical jargon, and then they left. Mr Gupta hugged Dad and thanked him profusely. Dad asked Manoj and me to leave, took Diya’s parents into a corner and reassured them. I saw Diya’s dad cry out suddenly and almost fall at my father’s feet. Dad kept him from doing so and hugged him again. I found her parents sweet. They hardly looked or acted the way I had heard they did.

It had been three hours and she was still inside the operation theatre. The doctors working inside kept sending updates.
She will live. Things are getting better.
Every time they had good news to give us, we used to hug each other, and her parents thanked Dad. He kept saying he had done nothing, and it was the doctors who deserved the real credit, which was true.

Finally, the door flung open and the three doctors in green overalls came out rubbing their hands and talking to each other. All of us crowded the three of them and bombarded them with questions.

‘She is safe,’ the oldest doctor said. ‘Can we talk to the parents of the patient, please? Alone?’

Diya’s parents held each other’s hands and followed the doctor. Diya’s dad asked my father to come too. My dad followed them as they disappeared inside the doctor’s chambers. The other relatives hugged each other in joy and relief. We all stood there and waited. Shaina was with her relatives, trying to console the aunts.

‘Benoy?’ Manoj said.

‘Yes?’ I said.

‘I think you should leave now,’ he said. ‘And so should your father. Don’t you see what
you
have done, Benoy? She was with
you
yesterday. She was supposed to be with her sister. Not you!
You
are responsible for all this. Get it?’

‘But—’

‘What will you get after ruining this family? First Shaina? Now this? Why don’t you just go away? Nobody needs you here.’

‘I was just trying to help.’

‘We don’t need your help! Shaina hates you for doing this to her sister. Just GET LOST,’ he almost shouted and walked away.

Shaina hates me? She thinks I am responsible. Maybe she is right.

Though what Manoj had said was unpleasant, I was more worried about the conversation inside the doctor’s chambers. I was too scared for Diya at that point to think about anything else. I
wanted
to see her. I still thought it was just a rude dream and I would wake up soon.

We waited outside the room and tried to overhear the conversation but we could not. We peered inside through the stained glass but we could not make out much from that either, so we just waited and fidgeted. I tried not to look at Manoj, who constantly stared me down.
You are responsible. Get lost.

After a long time, they came out. My dad had his arms around her dad and her mother looked totally lost as she staggered out of the room. We all said our little prayers. Mrs Gupta fainted on one of the women and everybody rushed forward to pick her up. I was sick with worry now.
I went up to Dad, my hands trembling and my ears ready to hear the worst.

‘What did he say?’

‘She is fine. But, she cannot walk right now. She’s paralysed waist down.’

What!
I felt sick in the pit of the stomach and could have puked. Images of Diya bedridden and in a wheelchair flashed in front of my eyes. I felt her pain and it felt so wrong.

‘What?’ I asked, ‘When will she be all right?’

‘They are not saying anything.’

‘What do you mean they are not saying anything? They must have given some
time frame
?’

‘Benoy, they can’t tell. She may walk some day, she may not. Nothing is
certain
.’

‘What do you mean nothing is certain? Can’t you do something about it? Better hospital? Better doctors?’ I begged and blinked away my tears.

‘We are looking at that,’ Dad said.

Fuck. I am responsible.
Every time this thought went through my head, I felt everyone looking at me and saying, ‘
You are responsible. Go away.

Diya’s dad walked up to us and motioned that he wanted to talk to my father. Dad sent me away. I saw her dad folding his hands and my dad preventing him from doing that. They hugged each other for long and separated when Manoj went and told Mr Gupta that they could now meet Diya. Her parents and Shaina went inside the room that she was shifted into. They did not take long inside, hardly ten-odd minutes, and they came out. Her mother was still crying profusely and so was Shaina.

I asked Shaina about Diya and she shook her head. As I waited amongst those crying people, I felt bad to have caused pain to so many people. They did not need me. I had only brought in pain for both the sisters. I could not see them like this.

I have to go out of their lives.

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