Identity Theft

 

I. 

 

“Why are you doing this to me? I'm beginning to hate you. Grow some balls!”

“Avni, please stop calling me. I told you my wife is tracking my every move.”

“Why are you whispering? Where are you right now?”

“In my room. Pretending to be on an office call.”

“Look Jugal, if you didn't have in you to have an affair, why the fuck did you? I'm not one of your sweet, spiritual little girls who love unconditionally. You mess with me; I mess with you too.”

“I'm sorry okay. I'm really sorry. I do like you a lot. I'm in awe of you. Everything you do. You inspire me. But my daughter is more important to me than anyone else.”

“And your wife?”

“I don't love her. You know that. But if I ever goof up in this marriage, I will never see my daughter again. If not for my child, I would have left my wife a long time ago.”

“Meet me. At the same bakery. We can go to my house and...”

“No Avni. It's over. I can't. I'm sorry.”

He disconnected the call. Ambika knocked on his door. 

“Are you on a call?”

“No. Not anymore. Why?”

“I need you to go down and buy some potatoes and fruits. We are running out of stuff again.”

“Why don't you order it online?”

“Because Jugal, there are no slots available.”

The phone rang on silent. He disconnected it. 

“Who's that?”

“Phone company.”

“Go down to the shop please.”

“Why can't you?”

“Because my leg hurts. And I have a presentation to prepare.”

Jugal got up and walked out of the house. Fuck Covid, fuck his wife, fuck Avni, fuck everyone. He was sick of women ruining his life. That fucking Rimjhim, that love of his life. She had ruined him, made him cold and insensitive. He did not want to let go of Avni, but she had become too clingy, begging to meet, crying, as if she did not know how delicate everything already was. He was scared and cornered. There was no way he would let his home fall apart, not for anyone. He had to cut her off, at least for the time being. He was sure Ambika had figured out he was cheating on her. He just could not take any more chances.

A neighbour smiled at him and waved. He waved back reluctantly. People would look at him and never guess who he really was. Who was he? His mother's perfect son, his daughter's loving Daddy, or Avni's married lover who used her and threw her away. Who was he? Was he his father's son, the same one he detested for his selfishness and his patriarchal liberties? 

Standing in the line at the supermarket, wearing that ridiculous N95 mask, he sulked away. Another message from Avni. 

"You have stabbed me. I trusted you. I thought you were different. You aren't done hurting me. May you know what this pain means someday. "

Fucking women and their curses. Just like Rimjhim. Who cursed him with a life devoid of love. He blocked Avni's number. 

One month passed by. He got a promotion. Director of the region. The Covid wave had tapered down but he was still working from home. 

At 6 pm, he got a call. It was a man. 

“Is that Jugal?”

“Yes.”

“Will you suck my cock? I will thrust it in your mouth. Can you dress up as a woman?”

“Excuse me? Who the fuck is that? How dare you talk to me like that?”

“Ha ha. You are one to get angry. Your ad said you have a fetish for golden showers, that your bum is a ripe melon...”

“Shut up!!! What ad? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The one on ClassifiedMantra. Your name, photo, location, sexual preferences, charges. Now you’re acting all innocent?”

“Please send it to me.”

“Hello? Hello? Am I your fucking secretary?”

“Please Sir. I'm a family man. I never put an ad. Please help me out. Just send me the link.”

The man grumbled but agreed. He received a WhatsApp link. He said sorry to the caller and disconnected. 

He opened the link. It had his Linkedin profile photo, the one he had put up himself. In a suit and tie. Other photos sourced from Facebook, an old college website. It could be anyone. He read the ad. It made him nauseous. He would deal with this before Ambika found out. 

He reached home. Ambika opened the door. She was visibly upset. 

“I'm sorry I took a long time. There was a long queue.”

“Jugal. I got a call on the landline. It was a woman. She said you are a gigolo and that she wants to hire you for her agency.”

His jaw dropped. He patted Ambika on the shoulder. 

“It's a prank. Someone in the office is jealous of me. Don't worry. I'll handle it.”

“Why you?”

“I just got a promotion Ambika.”

“Please do something about it before this gets worse.”

“I will.”

And worse it got. As worse as it could be. A nightmare. Calls from pimps, gay men, straight men, middle aged women... 

Ambika was distraught. She said she couldn’t sleep and she stopped eating properly. She hated Jugal because she secretly knew he had done something wrong. She stopped sending Sonal down to play. Their whole lives were turned upside down. 

And then the police came into the picture...

 

II. 

 

Avni picked up a book from the corner shelf and went back to the couch. She placed herself next to Jugal and put her feet up on the table. 

“This one, Jugal…”

“Is it good?”

“Better than what you're reading right now. How long has it been? Two months?”

“Two and a half.”

“For the life of me, I can't understand how someone can read so slowly.”

“I take time to understand things. I like to take time. I hate rushing anything. Besides, I haven't had the exposure you did.”

“What? You never read books?”

“I did. But not the types you do. Simple stuff. Thrillers. Crime. My dad used to read a lot. But in our language, not in English.”

“You know, you never talk about him. It's always your mom.”

“He was a dickhead.”

“Why? Was he not loving enough? How many years has it been since he passed away?”

“Look, Avni. You have a complicated relationship with your dad. I had with mine. I don't like to talk about it. There are things that stay within the family.”

“But I love my dad. Even if he's a jerk. I'm sure you did too.”

She put her head on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. Then, she pulled him closer and tried kissing him. He was stiff. 

“For fuck's sake Jugal, what is it?”

“Nothing. Don't talk about my dad, okay?”

“Okay sexy. Sorry. Look at your pout. Have I told you, I love your lips?”

“No. Tell me again.”

“You're such a baby. You know, the first time I saw you at that conference, I knew you craved to be loved.”

“What rubbish! You were so rude to me.”

“I'm rude to people I'm attracted to. Messed up like that. What was the first thing you noticed about me?”

“How smart you were. And your breasts.”

Avni burst out laughing. She had a childish giggle, one that could revive a room full of dead people. 

“You like big breasts, don't you?”

“Guilty. I do. Something about them makes me feel safe.”

Avni smiled and stood up. Then she pushed his face into her bosom. He accepted the invitation. 

After they were done making love, they lay on the wrought iron bed, the headpost engulfed in leaves from a creeping plant. There were tiny pots everywhere in the house; in the kitchen, on book shelves, even on top of the loo. Avni put her feet on his and lit a cigarette. 

“Why do you always wear socks Avni?”

“I like my feet to be warm. Mine are always cold.”

She offered him a puff. He refused. 

“How long has it been since you smoked Jugal?”

“Five years. I quit the day Sonal was born.”

Avni looked at him. He seemed uncomfortable. As if he was holding back. 

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah. Avni?”

“Yes, my darling.”

“You know I love my mother, right?”

“Yes. Of course. You adore her. She seems very sweet.”

“She is. But Avni...”

He sighed and his eyes turned moist. 

“What is it? You can tell me. I know you have lots of secrets, but you can trust me. I'm good at keeping secrets.”

“Avni, she's not my mother.”

Avni sat up on the bed. She held Jugal in her arms. 

“I'm here. I'm listening.”

“She is my stepmother. My mom died twenty years ago. Cancer.”

“Ohhh. I'm so sorry. You must miss her a lot?”

“I do. But I don't remember too well. I don't remember much of my childhood. I don't remember...”

“It's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. Come closer, let me hold you.”

Jugal curled into a ball and lay still in her arms. After five minutes, he jumped out of bed. His cell phone was ringing. 

“Yes, Ambika. Just leaving. It's raining heavily this side. I might get late. Colour print outs? Now? Of course, yeah, I can go back upstairs and get it from the office. Don't worry. Is it tomorrow? Okay. Is Sonal awake or has she gone to bed? I'm coming. Yeah.”

He quickly wore his shoes and ran towards the door. Avni ran behind him.

“Jugal! The book. Take it with you.”

“Thanks. I'll return it soon.”

“How soon?”

“A year?”

Avni laughed. She knew she was never going to get her book back. But she didn't mind. 

 

 

 

 

 

III. 

 

Ambika opened the steel cupboard to scout for the share certificates. It was a mess, but she certainly didn't have the time to sit and declutter. She moved the pile of folders containing property deeds, birth certificates, medical files and college mark sheets. 

Her hand glided over the shiny, golden album. A mixture of nostalgia and curiosity took over her. It had been ten years since they were married. She opened the wedding album and reminisced. Their wedding had been drama free, simple and sensible. 

She looked at Jugal's photo. He was only thirty. So innocent, so dependable, so kind hearted. These were the qualities that had made her say yes to his family. They had common acquaintances and a meeting had been set up between them. 

He had asked her if she read, what her favourite cuisine was or whether she liked travelling. She found him to be genuine. They were both in sales, but otherwise very different. When she spoke to him, she did so in a mild tone. He said he didn't mind the scar on her face when she brought it up. 

“Come on, Ambika. You don't have to downplay yourself over looks. We both know that's not really important in a marriage. Chemistry fades away. What's important is compatibility and trust.”

Now, she found herself dealing with a rising wave of irritation and rage. Trust? Did he really think she trusted him? 

She looked at her own photograph. Faking smiles in front of relatives. What a charade! If she could have her way, she would never be around anyone. 

She had said yes because he was her best bet. Also, because she had already figured him out. He wanted to be saved, but the egoistical man that he was, he would never admit it. She would let him be her saviour. That way, he would believe he was saving himself. 

People talked about love between a husband a wife. She never understood that. It was a weak word meant for weak people. No one had ever loved her. She was always the invisible one. Why would she go around ruining her life for love? 

Sonal came into the room, her bangles making a jangling sound. Ambika quickly closed the album. 

“Mumma, I'm bored. Can I use my iPad? Also, I'm hungry. I feel like eating something tasty.”

“I'm busy. Go eat some cookies from the blue box.”

“What is that shiny book?”

“Sonal, just go. Don't bug me. Go watch your cartoons.”

Sonal knew from her mother's tone that she wanted to be left alone. So, she left. 

After dinner, Ambika sat next to Jugal on the bed. He was on his phone and she pretended to read. 

“Jugal, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you find me ugly?”

“Ambika, don't start this rubbish again. I accepted you just the way you were. I don't see anything wrong with you.”

“That's not what I asked. Are you attracted to me?”

Jugal licked his lips, looked down and replied softly.

“Of course, I am.”

He was lying. She knew that. 

“Then why has it been two years since we had sex?”

Jugal sighed. 

“Look. I'm busy. You're busy. We have a daughter. You've had three miscarriages and now this fibroids operation. I just feel there's no need to take any risks.”

“Risks? I won't get pregnant if you use protection.”

“I don't like it. You know that. I can't get turned on.”

“Jugal, when you were with Rimjhim, did you use protection?”

He frowned. 

“Can we not bring her into this? I don't like discussing private things with anyone. Especially such things.”

“Jugal, if you can't get turned on by me, maybe the problem is me. You just don't find me attractive.”

“No, Ambika. I want to. There's just never a right time. I miss it too.”

“How about tonight?”

“Okay. But let me check on Sonal first. She's not used to sleeping separately.”

He got up and went to the next room. She heard Sonal asking him to not leave her and go. 

He came back to the room and picked up his blanket. 

“I'm sorry. Let's plan this properly. How about Saturday night?”

Ambika gave a faint smile and nodded. 

When he left, she put her head on the pillow and sobbed quietly. 

She hated him. She hated how he reminded her that she hated herself. 

 

 

 

IV. 

 

Jugal looked at himself in the mirror. His hair had turned grey again. Should he just stop dyeing it now? He knew he would look good even with salt and pepper hair. 

No. Not yet. He would try growing his hair instead. When he was younger, he had soft, smooth hair. He looked like a nerd back in college. Oversized glasses, longer hair, pullovers and jeans, always in black. 

He was still very fond of black, but the corporate world ruled in favour of whites and blues. How he hated pastels! But he still had to go with what was expected of him. If only he could leave this all behind and start afresh, he would do something creative. He wasn't cut out for this rat race. Someday, his facade would crumble and people would see him for who he really was, just a shy, sensitive teenager who hated the world. 

He started shaving in front of the mirror. He could hear Sonal singing outside, ‘Let it go, let it go...’

He smiled to himself. He remembered the first time his father taught him to shave. He felt a sickly wave of longing and anger. Why did he still love him? Why couldn't he hate that bastard? 

He thought of his mother, withering away every day, till she disappeared. Two tears flowed down each cheek. 

Aww, shucks! Today better not start like this. They had plans to go out for dinner. 

He changed into his shorts and took Sonal outside on her cycle. 

After an hour, he convinced her to go back upstairs, but she wanted to play in the park. He sat down, watching her. 

He got a call from an unknown number. Lately, he had been very wary of taking calls from people he didn't know. But it looked like a local number. 

“Hello.”

A male voice answered. 

“Hello. Is that Jugal?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Did you think you could hide away by changing your number?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have hurt a lot of people in your life. You don't run away from that. You suffer. You repent.”

Jugal tried remaining calm. 

“What do you want? Please tell Avni I'm sorry. I have suffered enough.”

“No, you haven't. Why did you call her again?”

“To apologize. To ask for forgiveness. To beg her to leave me and my family alone. I called her, but she did not pick up my call.”

“You are a liar. You've been lying your whole life. And if you dare tell the police about my call, you'll see what happens in your new office.”

“I won't. I am sorry. I will never call Avni ever again.”

“You better not.”

The call disconnected. Jugal quietly asked Sonal to leave and they went back home. 

He ran to the bathroom and sat down on the floor. Something heavy was building up inside him. He felt a pain in his chest, as if his heart was skipping beats and could not continue carrying the burden of his existence. He started wheezing and crying. 

Ambika knocked on the door again and again. 

He opened it and started howling. 

“Take me to the hospital. Something's happening to me. I think I'm dying.”

At the hospital, they did routine blood work and heart tests. The doctor gave him an injection to calm him down. His face was flushed and he was hyperventilating. 

“Your heart is fine. We have a very good psychiatrist in the hospital. I suggest you start meeting her. It is nothing to feel embarrassed about. Anxiety attacks are very common. She will assist you in dealing with the core issue rather than the symptoms. There is cognitive behavioural therapy and medication if required,” said the general physician.

He assured the doctor he would fix up an appointment. But he knew he wouldn't. He would never talk to anyone about this. In fact, he would never trust anyone ever again. 

Ambika held his hand. 

“I'm here.”

He hugged her. 

“Thank you. I don't know what I would ever do without you.”

He would never be the same again. If hurt was all he deserved, he would embrace it till he died. 

 

 

V. 

 

“What did you think of Jugal? Did you like him?”

“He's nice. But he doesn't seem very intelligent.”

“Not intelligent? He's an MBA, has a nice job. He looks handsome too. What more do you want Ambika?”

“I'm an MBA too, I have a nice job too. But then that's not enough, is it? I'm expected to be pretty and cook well, be docile and sweet, right?”

“That's just how it goes darling. How many men have you met? Did it go anywhere? His family is in a hurry to get him married. It's a good offer. Trust me, this is good.”

“I don't like his family. Both parents seem creepy. The mother is overly talkative and the father seemed to be sulking looking at me.”

“Look, you have to get along with your mother-in-law in any case. If she likes to talk, then talk. Mine was so rude. At least this one is trying.”

“Mamma…”

“Yes.”

“You married for love, right?”

“Yes.”

“So why can't I get anyone to love me?”

“Your father is a rare specimen. He's giving. That's what one needs in a husband. Someone who will take care of you when you grow old.”

“And you think Jugal will?”

“I'm sure he will. You just need to know how to keep a man.”

“How is that?”

“Be weak. Always ask for his help. He should feel that you need him. That way he will never leave you. Most women these days act self-reliant, as if they don't need a man. Well, men don't need such women.”

“Do you think I'm weak?”

“No. But you are not perfect. It is as it is. Since you were a child, you never really wanted love. You hated it if someone cuddled you.”

“That's because you never did that with me. You always expected me to be composed. You said emotions make people weak.”

“Well, they do. You're not exactly attractive. Neither do you try to be. But you are smart. So, use your brains for a change.”

“Not attractive? The number of times you say that, don't you think I know it by now? Change for what? Love?”

“Ambika. For God's sake, stop being so insecure. Meet him again. We can ask for a small wedding.”

“Mamma, you're the one who makes me insecure.”

“Yes, go ahead. Blame everything on me. You know what? Do what you want. I don't care.”

Ambika logged on to her computer and saw his profile again. If she could figure out his weakness, she would be able to keep him hooked. She called him and they decided to meet again. 

“It's loyalty. That's my deal breaker, if you really want to know. I've had my heart broken before. I don't want romance or drama. I just want someone who's practical and grounded. Someone who will be there, no matter what, someone who never gives up.”

She listened to him. That was her. She was exactly what he needed. But she didn't tell him that. 

“I need someone just like you. We have the same values. We both want a trustworthy, steadfast companion. But I leave it to you, whatever you decide.”

“Ambika, it's a yes from me.”

“Don't you have to consult your parents? What about your mother? Does she like me?”

“It doesn't matter. I like you.”

 

After their marriage, they honeymooned in France. The problems began firstly in bed. There was no sexual chemistry. She was inexperienced, he was not. And yet, he would not get turned on. The more she tried, the more anxious he became. 

She decided to give it time. Maybe that's how it was with everyone. Maybe that's how marrying a stranger always felt. Till one day, the stranger was no longer a stranger. Till one day, you just stop trying so hard.

 

 

VI. 

 

Avni waited for Jugal at the cafe where they always met. The last time she had seen him was 17 days ago. He always said he was swamped with work, or that his daughter was unwell. She seemed to be losing him. But she wouldn't give up that easily. Her best friend was worried about how this would end. 

“He's married, Avni. A married man will never leave his wife and child for you. You need to end this before you get badly hurt.”

“He doesn't love her. He told me so himself.”

“Has he told you that he loves you?”

“No, but I know he does. We are alike, so similar. The last time, he told me I have opened his eyes to how a relationship should really be like.”

“Avni. Please. Stop. How long will this go on before his wife finds out?”

“She will never find out. We have our ways to keep it under wraps. Join the same workshops, plan our secret little getaways without her knowing. Our last trip to Goa was unbelievable.”

“So, he lied to her?”

“It's not lying. Please don't bring morality into it.”

“It is about morality. That's what it is really about. Or is it about you picking the wrong unavailable men each time to get your father's attention?”

“Shut up. And stop psychoanalysing me.”

Avni ordered a chocolate milkshake and French fries. She had started binge eating again. 

He was late. Twenty minutes later, he arrived. She saw him parking his black sedan. Her heart melted looking at his chocolate-coloured eyes, hidden behind his dark blue frames. He looked tired, as if he was ready to give everything up. She looked at him and he smiled his beaming smile. She felt a wave of desire surging through her body. 

He sat down and ordered a green tea and a salad. She knew from his food order that he was not going to be emotional today. He was in his control mode, the time when she could not really understand him. She closed her eyes and looked at him again, blinking furiously. 

“What is it Avni? Is it the black shadow again?”

“Yes. It's right behind you. It's been growing larger.”

“Damn. I wonder what it means.”

“I don't know. But I don't like it.”

She reached out and held his hand. It was cold today.  He seemed uneasy. 

“What happened Jugal? Is everything okay?”

“Not really. Ambika has been acting strangely.”

“How so? Did she say something?”

“No. Nothing. But you know how I can sense these things. Just like you.”

“Yeah. I believe you.”

“So, the other day, she asked for my phone to pay some bill. I don't know why I felt something was off.”

“Don't you lock your phone?”

“No. Neither do I lock my laptop. But there's nothing to see. I always make sure to delete your messages. It's a painful process. Now I think locking it is a better idea.”

“It's high time you did that, Jugal.”

He ran his fingers through his thick hair. He clenched her hand tightly. 

“Avni, we have to stop till this cools off.”

She bit into her French fry and sighed. 

“I think you are being unnecessarily paranoid. I miss you so much. I can't stay away from you.”

“I know, Avni. So do I. But our lives are at stake here.”

“You mean your life?”

“Avni, I have way more to lose. And I don't want to.”

Avni's eyes welled up. Jugal stared at her sadly, but she knew he wasn't really there. 

“Maybe we can be just friends Jugal?”

Jugal laughed a dry laugh. 

“Do you know how attracted I am to you? All I can think about right now is to fuck your brains out, right here on this couch. How can I be just friends with you? It would never work.”

Avni sighed. She wanted to reach out and stroke his thighs, bite his lips, put him in her mouth. Her brain was clouded.

“Jugal, say fuck again. Just say it.”

He whispered in her ear. 

“Fuck. I want to fuck you.”

They held hands and went to her house. He was like a hound dog, madly devouring her again and again. When it was time for him to leave, he kissed her and said, 

“I love you. I wish we had met earlier. Much earlier.”

That was the last time she saw him. That was the last time she pitied him. 

 

 

VII.

 

Ambika went to the guest room to look for Jugal. The room was dark and he was trying to sleep, tossing and turning.

“Jugal, are you okay?”

He coughed. His eyes looked worn out and red.

“I think I'm coming down with something. Or maybe I'm just tired. I had calls till 3 last night. This working from home thing is killing me.”

She moved closer and touched his forehead. It was warm. 

“Looks like you have a slight fever. Just rest it out, okay?”

He pulled the blanket over his mouth, 

“I'm going to isolate in this room today. Don't let Sonal come here. I don't want her catching anything from me.”

“Jugal, you've not met anyone, gone anywhere really. Where did you catch this from? You said when you went to office, you were the only person there.”

He groaned,

“I don't know all right! It could be from anywhere.”

She sighed. As she was walking out, he said,

“Ambika, please just shut down my laptop. I don't want them to think I'm available when I can't really do anything today. I will write a mail in some time. My whole body just hurts right now.”

She nodded and closed the door behind her. The last thing she needed was for him to fall sick. She had enough on her plate already. She was beginning to get tired of indulging him. He was whimsical and unpredictable. He wanted to learn calligraphy, so she let him. He said he wanted to join an animation workshop, she let him. Lately, he had started talking about buying a motorbike and travel with a bikers' group up North for a month once things started getting better.

Was he going through a mid-life crisis? Was it not enough that she supported him in whatever he did? All she wanted was a secure, stable life and a sensible, sorted out husband. And here she was, stuck with this idiot!

She went back to the corner room. His laptop was at his desk. She sat on the chair to shut it down. He was right. People were messaging him, mailing him, he had ten windows open. 

And then she saw it. A new mail arrived. From Avni Sinha.

‘Subject: Sick’

Ambika's curiosity took over her. If she opened it, he would know. But she had to read it. A colleague would never write such an informal mail.

She went to his inbox and clicked on it.

It read:

Baby, I'm feeling horrible. Have fever, body ache and chills. Hope you are doing okay? I haven't even stocked up for any emergency. And Ruchita's also not in town. I don't know what to do. Haven't even had the energy to get up and prepare breakfast. Anyhoo, reply soon. Chat with you at night.

Yours,

Avu

P.S: Lock your bloody phone

 

Ambika froze and her face was devoid of any expression. She deleted the mail, went to the Bin and deleted it from there as well. Then she switched off his laptop. Everything made sense now. This was bound to happen. She had always known it was going to happen. She was prepared. She was not going to be the one who lost control.

She checked up ‘Avni Sinha’ online. Marketing manager, classical dancer, dog lover, curly hair, curvy figure, one wolf tattoo, parties, meditates, loves reading...

Ambika felt nauseous. She could picture this girl naked. She could picture Jugal going down on her. She could see her, hair over her face, sucking him off,

She could kill someone right now. But she wouldn't. She would do what her mother asked her to do. Try to be weak. But she wasn’t weak. She was strong.

After fifteen minutes, she went back to Jugal.

“I'll make some soup for you; you will feel better.”

He could barely open his eyes.

“Okay. Thank you.”

While she was chopping vegetables to make a broth for him, she realised she didn't have to do anything for him to stop. When he would realise there was no mail in his inbox, he would know she had something to do with it. That would freak him out.

Ambika smiled to herself. Jugal had no idea how smart she really was. 

But she was going to prove that she was better than him. She had always been better than him.

 

 

VIII.

 

Jugal picked up the phone, listened without responding and then disconnected the call. Ambika glanced at him from the sofa. She knew exactly what had happened.

“Another call?”

“Yes. Don't worry. All I have to do is block the number.”

“Why don't you write to the website and get the ad taken down?”

Jugal pressed his knuckles against each other. 

“Yeah, that's a good idea. Help me?”

Ambika walked up to him and pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I will. If you tell me the truth. Do you know who this could be?”

Jugal stared at her face. Then he looked down.

“No.”

Ambika sighed. 

“Look, if you have a personal enmity with someone at work, or you got into a fight or insulted someone, you can tell me. If you had an affair with someone and this is a jilted lover, you can tell me. If you went to an escort and ended up on the wrong side of the law, you can tell me. Just be honest and we can put this all behind us.”

Jugal raised his voice and clenched his jaw.

“I told you I don't know. Why would I be protecting anyone?”

Ambika smiled at him.

“Calm down Jugal. I'm not the enemy. Do you even realise how scared this makes your family feel? Do we even know if this is a criminal who could potentially harm us? Think of your daughter for once. Think of me! Think how all this makes me feel. I know you are the victim here, but aren't we all suffering with you? Go, get your laptop. Let's do this. It's been six days since the ad was posted right?”

“Yes.”

They sat together, husband and wife and wrote a mail to customer support, asking for the post to be taken down as it was purely an act of malice.

The website was a shady one, used mainly to sell cheap furniture and old phones. Most of the ads were services offered by massage parlours or how to make a quick buck sitting at home. 

They waited for three days. The post was still there, but it had been attracting lesser traffic. Now, the calls had trickled down to two or three a day. 

On the fourth day, Jugal received a call that was verbally abusive. The caller used an online site to make the call. When Jugal saw the number on his phone, he assumed it was his product manager calling from the United States. 

The caller was a man who was in the business of providing male sex workers to men. He threatened Jugal with sodomy if he ever tried to enter the online business as competition again. The description of the threat, with innards being exposed by a brutal and violent act of beer bottles shoved inside him was traumatizing for Jugal. He could not keep it together anymore and burst out into hot, shameful tears.

What was he to do? What sin had he committed to deserve this suffering? He tried calling the website's office number, but no one picked up. He tried calling Avni's number. The number was out of network. He then called up Ruchita, Avni's former roommate.

“Hi Ruchita. It's Jugal. Remember we met at Avni's birthday party at Avalon?”

There was silence at the other end. 

“I remember you very well Jugal. Why are you calling me?”

“I'm trying to get in touch with Avni. Do you know where she might be?”

Ruchita laughed.

“You have some nerve to call me after you dumped her. You know, I don't understand men like you. I kept on warning her, but she was so madly in love with you to see that you're a dirty little liar and a coward. Men like you don't even have it in them to say the truth. Avni's moved back to Kolkata and good she did. You broke her heart. Don't fucking call me again or I'll report you to the police.”

Jugal was scared. The last thing he wanted was the police to come after him. All he wanted was the post to be taken down. He deserved the punishment he was receiving. He was a horrible man who should never be loved by anyone. He had ruined so many lives already.

He called the local police station to report a cybercrime. He was told to come over and talk. 

He picked up his car keys and decided to go immediately. Ambika asked him where he was going. When he told her, she was not supportive of his decision.

“Why involve the police? Think of it this way, what if they come over? Imagine the neighbours asking us what happened. You have to keep a low profile right now, not blow this out of proportion. Just wait for the website to respond. We could just ask a cyber expert to help us.”

“No Ambika. I got to do this. Maybe they can trace the person who did this through the IP address or something. I don't know how it works, but let me give it a shot.”

He quickly ran out and drove off in his car.

Inspector Khan listened to his story and asked for the list of all the numbers that called him. There were 223 in total. Jugal did not mention Avni at all. He wanted to keep her out of this to protect her and to save his reputation. As for Ambika, he was sure she knew about Avni. When Avni had told him about the mail that he could never find, his plan to cover his tracks had already begun.

Inspector Khan opened the government's cybercrime portal to file an official complaint. 

“Yes, we can trace the IP address and try to find the location from where this was posted. Even if it's a cyber cafe, it will lead us to further clues. See, this has to be filed under Fake profile/Sexual harassment. Now all we need to do is attach a screenshot of the ad here. Just send me the link so I can do that.”

Jugal went to open the link. But when he refreshed it, it said ‘Page Error. Invalid Link’.

He held his head in his hands.

Inspector Khan shook his head.

“Tcch tcch. Bad luck. Now there's no way of knowing who was after your blood. Unless you want me to contact the website and retrieve it?”

Jugal smiled.

“Not bad luck. This is good luck. It's over, this nightmare! I can go back to my life.”

He was optimistic. The storm had passed. But he would never be the same again. He would never hurt anyone ever again; he would never trust his heart ever again. He would change completely.

 

 

IX. 

 

It always felt good to count how many people really remembered you on your birthday. Avni was looking forward to the day. Lunch with family and dinner with old college buddies. 

She sat on her favourite diwan near the window, legs stretched out. Ma had gifted her diamond earrings and Baba a book by Carlos Castaneda. 

Baba sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, while she looked at photos of food, wondering what to order beforehand. 

Then he exclaimed loudly. 

“Look at these morons! Fighting over temple land again. This whole bullshit over Gods never ceases to amaze me. Right wing lunatics! Makes me want to quote Henry Miller right now.”

Avni sighed. She was not going to take the bait. Not today. 

He looked at her, waiting for her to respond. She shrugged her shoulders. 

“You want me to ask you what he said?”

“Bah! Looks like you're becoming just like those other girls, always on the phone. Instagram, is it?”

“Sheesh, I just joined Instagram. Not to post selfies but for work. Okay, tell me!”

“I had no more need of God than he had of me. And if there were one, I would meet him calmly and spit in his face.”

He looked at Avni's face. She was horrified. 

“Tropic of Capricorn, madam. I'm sure you haven't read it, have you? Too busy reading Philip Kotler, are we?”

She got up to go. She did not have the time for this. 

“I have read Tropic of Capricorn. And it's crap. And you are spouting off some old outdated guy's name because that's all you know. By the way, don't wear that ridiculous grey kurta for lunch. We are going to a brewery not a protest march.”

Baba laughed loudly. 

“Yes, my little bird. And you are 30, not 15. So don't wear tops that can't cover your paunch.”

She walked away to hear him still laughing like a lunatic. 

Avni went to her room and sat on the bed. More birthday wishes. Then she saw one from a number she didn't recognise. 

‘Happy birthday Avni. I hope you are doing well? I tried reaching out to you many times but you had changed your number. Found this online. I'm sorry for hurting you, for being such a jackass. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

- Jugal’

Her heart skipped a beat. All the memories came rushing back. With them came the hurt, the insecurities, the abandonment and the guilt. But he was trying. He had realised his mistake. Maybe, he finally realised her worth. After one and a half years. Gosh, it really had been that long since she had seen him! 

She replied, 

‘Thank you’

He responded. 

‘I know this is a long shot. But I was wondering if we could talk?’

She sat for the next ten minutes just trying to make a decision. She did want to talk to him, wanted to clear the air and move on. But she wasn't ready.

In order to move forward, one had to walk backwards and make peace. One had to make amends and God knew she had made a lot of them. She had been to therapy, focused on her career, learnt how to value herself more. If someone wanted her, they would have to prove themselves to her. She would not sell herself short anymore. 

She missed Jugal. She was also sure she had loved him, and even if he did not know it, he had loved her too. But when love starts eating into your self-esteem and makes you feel worthless, it isn't love anymore. She had learnt that. 

She thought to herself, to love, isn't always akin to sacrifice. It is to call out the bullshit if you see it happening. It is to say, I love you, but I need to respect you too. Otherwise, love is nothing but co-dependency. Her shrink had pointed that out. Her co-dependant traits had attracted her to narcissists, always wanting to give even when she received nothing back in return. 

‘We will talk. I just need more time. Someday, we will talk. Till then, keep working on yourself. Ad Meliora.’

Avni went to the bathroom, turned on a hot shower and sang loudly, 

“I'll see you on 

The other side of love

I'll see you when

We finally meet. 

Ooooo, when you 

Hold my hand in yours.... 

I'll see you... 

On... The... Other... Side... Of... Love...”

 

X.

 

Ambika read the email and smiled again. All her hard work had paid off. The new organization valued her, realised her worth and the reward was a pay hike and a promotion. Today was a good day. Life was good, life had been good for a while. All the past betrayals and insecurities seemed to fade away. 

Sonal had joined a new school and was doing well. Jugal had been more attentive and loving. He made it a point to call her after lunch every day. They had been leaving Sonal with Jugal's mom who had come down from Lucknow to go out more often. He looked forward to trying out new restaurants with Ambika and made plans beforehand to book tickets for concerts, plays and movies. The sex was not satisfactory, but he had been trying. This was one area she really did not know how to change. 

She was not a kinky person, and she had assumed he wasn't too. But once she had asked him if he watched porn, he had unabashedly admitted that he did, like most men. When prodded further, he revealed he had a thing for watching Asian girls. Petite, fair and long, straight hair; that was what turned him on. He also liked watching doctors and nurses getting it off. 

She had pretended to laugh, but secretly it hit her hard. She was tall, averagely built, dusky with shorter hair that she always tied up in a pony tail. Did he really have to like everything that was the opposite of her? And could she ever, even in jest, pretend to be a nurse? Never. Maybe he liked being in charge, but he never admitted that to her. 

Ambika looked at her watch. It was time for her yoga class. Lately, she had started eating healthier and taking care of her body and mind. After her class ended, she sat in the car to get back home. Maybe she could pick up some pastries for Sonal from the cafe nearby.

Her phone rang. It was Kavish, her college friend. She smiled.

“Hi Kavish!”

“Ambyyy! Congrats dude! Saw your message. You're really on a roll lately.”

“Thanks. Nothing like that. I think Lady Luck's finally smiling at me. Plus, I did work really hard this past year.”

“I know, I know. You deserve it. You deserve all the happiness in the world. Tell me, how is Jugal?”

“He's good. Quite busy these days with work. Also, he's bought a bike. Joined some bikers' group that goes on long drives. Boys' only group, it seems.”

Kavish snorted and laughed.

“He's an idiot. He's lucky you let him do all that. And that you didn't even divorce him after he cheated on you. He's not in touch with that girl, I hope?”

“No, not that I know of. He's been really nice lately, very supportive. But...”

“But what Amby?”

“I don't know. I somehow still feel it's a facade. As if he's still hiding something.”

Kavish listened quietly. Then he said,

“Look, if Diggy behaved like this, I would be equally suspicious of her. I'm amazed you can trust him at all. If you want me to do something, let me know. I actually enjoyed it last time, though I was worried you were going to be exposed when that idiot went to the police.”

“I took down the post just in the nick of time. You think I enjoyed doing that to him? I didn't. But he deserved it. And it saved our marriage. Some people need a kick in the nuts to come back to their senses.”

Kavish was quiet again. Then he broke the silence.

“Amby, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. You can ask me anything.”

“Do you really love Jugal?”

Ambika sighed. 

“Look, I will answer this question if you can first define love for me.”

“Define love? Love cannot be defined. It is never the same for you or me. Everyone loves in different ways, in different measures and sometimes one can love many different people. But if you ask me what it means, it means to be there for them, no matter what.”

“So, you agree that love means to be there for someone?”

“Yes.”

“Now Kavish, what if you see the person you love making a mistake, will you still be there for them?”

“I mean, I would advise them, guide them, but that's all I can do.”

“Why? To love means to protect right?”

“Yes, but only if one wants to be protected. Not a full-grown adult. A child for instance...”

“Exactly. If I can protect my child, why can't I protect my husband?”

“Because...he is not a child. Besides, people have to learn from their mistakes.”

“Kavish, look at it from my point of view. Jugal is all I have. If I would have let him destroy our marriage, what would have happened to me, to Sonal?”

“Fair enough Amby. So, you did it to save yourself? Why not just admit it?”

“Because that is far from the truth. I saved him, I saved us, our family. I did the right thing. Everything turned out well. The girl moved out of town a long time back. She is living her life too. I saved both of them from the heartbreak.”

“Are you still stalking her? Is that really needed? Amby, let go of the insecurity now.”

Ambika replied calmly.

“You helped me, Kavish. Don't make me out to be a monster. If anything, I'm the victim. How can you ever trust someone that has broken your trust, someone that has lied to you, fooled you, manipulated you?”

“Amby, I helped you because you are my friend, because you were crying and hurt. I felt so bad for you. But if he has lied, so have you. If he has been manipulative, so have you. Two wrongs do not make a right. It is as it is. You know I don't mince my words.”

Ambika started sobbing. Kavish consoled her and apologized.

“Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You really have been through a lot...”

“It's okay. You have a right to say what you want...”

“No, not. It's my fault. I had called to congratulate you and look what I did. I made you cry.”

“No worries. Let's forget about it. Okay?”

“Okay. Listen, are you coming for Reena's big birthday bash?”

“I'll try. Don't know right now.”

“Okay. Listen, gotta go. I've just reached home. I will surely call you again. I'm sorry for making you cry. You take care.”

“You too Kavish. Bye.”

Ambika disconnected the call and frowned. She was so tired of being judged and criticized by everyone. As for Kavish, she was not interested in talking to him anymore. She would avoid him, bit by bit, one mode of communication at a time. And when the timing was right, completely. He would realise that he had hurt her. Just like everyone always did.

She called up Jugal.

“Hi. Do you want a chocolate truffle pastry or a fresh fruit one? I know you like both, so I thought I would ask.”

She smiled. Everything was going to be alright. Just like she always knew it would. Just like it should be. 

 

 

XI.

 

Jugal looked at the time on his phone. It was 9.30 am. He needed to finish his run and head back home to shower. He looked at the phone again. It was March 5^th today, Avni's birthday. He sighed loudly. Should he wish her? Would she respond? He really needed to clear the air with her, but he was scared. What if she yelled at him, said hurtful things? What if she hated him? Was there anything worse than breaking the heart of someone you cared so deeply for? He had lived with the guilt for a long time, blamed himself for being the worst husband and lover one could have bargained for. 

Avni would forgive him. He knew that. He knew that because he knew her. She was not the sorts to hold grudges. But Ambika, Ambika had still not forgiven him. He knew that too.

But today was not the day for fear. He would break out of this cage and follow his heart. It was time now. He was ready to finally follow his heart.

He messaged Avni and waited for her response. It was very unlike her to wait so long. She had always been spontaneous, impulsive and brave. Unlike him, she did not overanalyse things. He had been stalking her online. He knew she was still single and finally happy.

After ten minutes, a reply. He responded. He really wanted to talk to her and tell her everything. How he had suspected her, how much he had hated her for ruining his life, and then in the end, how much he had loathed himself for even assuming she could ever hurt him. She could never even hurt an ant. He had seen her picking up insects on leaves and keeping them safely on bushes. How could he even think that she would do anything to destroy him?

Her reply came. She wasn't ready. But he knew that she did not hate him. She still wished him well. Ad Meliora? What the fuck was that? He googled it to find out it was Latin for 'Towards Better Things'. He smiled. Maybe someday, they would talk, they would meet again, not as lovers, but as friends. He wanted nothing but the best for her.

Jugal deleted the messages and saved Avni's number as 'Plumber 2'. Ambika was still suspicious, he knew that. But it was okay, He didn't hate her. The day Inspector Khan had asked for the list of calls, Jugal remembered the one Ambika had picked up. But the ad did not mention his landline number. Avni did not know his landline number. It was only for immediate family members.

The landline number wasn't in the ad at all. He knew at that exact moment it had always been Ambika. He was glad she took the post down otherwise the investigation would lead the police back to their house. He refused for the retrieval of the link because he had wanted to protect Ambika. Whatever she did, she did it out of hurt. He had hurt Ambika and he had broken her trust. If anyone needed to be punished, it was him. 

A long time had passed since the incident. Why had he cheated on Ambika? He had gone over the past a million times. He was attracted to Avni, he respected her for her pure heart, he had even imagined scenarios where she was his wife. But it was wrong. He did not want to be like his father.

His father. The one he looked up to. The one who cheated on his poor, sick mother. Even before his stepmom came into the picture, his father had an affair with his friend's wife. His mother knew, but she never confronted him. He knew because the lady used to come to their house often. He had seen his father with her in the market. Once, when he came back home from college, he had seen her in his father’s darkened room. 

But the asshole that he was, his father showed no remorse. At a time when he was supposed to be making his wife's last days memorable, he was busy fucking around with someone else. Jugal did not know what finally happened. They moved houses to live closer to the hospital for mom's chemo. Maybe the affair fizzled out. But his mother died sad and miserable, unloved each moment of her unhappy existence.

Jugal looked at two butterflies on a tree. One moment together, then flying away. Then together again, then away. Maybe this is how life was. People touched us and flew away. And everywhere they touched, a new wing would grow. For that, the old one would have to fall off first. 

He had never wanted to be like his father. In fact, when he became an adult, he consciously became the opposite of what his father was. His father liked white, so he wore black. His father loved sweets; Jugal avoided them like the plague. His father never played with him, he ensured that he was always there for his daughter. 

He thought to himself, ‘But these things are like generational curses. We look at our parents, their flaws so magnified and obvious to us. We say, when I grow up, I will never do what he or she did. I will be kinder, braver, happier. But we are our parents' bones, the part that never dies even when the flesh rots and melts away. We are the bones they leave behind. We steal our identities from their bones and then cover it up in fresh skin to assert our independence. It was like a rite of passage in every family’

Sometimes he wondered if he cheated because he wanted to be like his father, just to know what that felt like, to be closer to him, to understand him better. Maybe, he was just like his father. Maybe his father was tired of being the strong one for his weak mother. Was he strong or weak? He didn't know. He was a work in progress. 

He thought of how much he had been trying to change, to get better. A co-worker had been flirting with him, but he had avoided respectfully. He had no place for drama in his life right now. Only love. Maybe real love someday. 

As for Ambika, he did not hate her, he did not pity her. They were too toxic for each other, but they were still husband and wife. She was the mother of his child. Sonal should never suffer like he did. But maybe she already had. Children are always observing their parents. They know whether there is love between them or a compromise. They know if they are products of love and respect or just collateral damage.

He held his head in his hands. So much to learn, so much to understand. He had time, lots of time. Growing up was a long process. It could not happen overnight.

He looked at the butterflies again. They had gone their separate ways now. Maybe touched and grown new wings. He smiled.

Slowly, he started jogging, small, slow steps at first. Then he picked up pace and ran, drops of sweat trickling from his hair to his forehead and then his nose. A cool breeze blew and he felt refreshed. He stopped, panting after one round. 

Then he started again, feeling stronger with each step that he ran.

 

The End

Word count: 9516

-         Alpa Arora