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 5th
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
Comments
The idea came from a dream I had and I'm still getting to know the characters. Let's see where they lead me.
Any other suggestions on how I can arrange this? In any case, this is my last post here. I'm going to start afresh in a new space.