Black Suits You Read online

  The ease with which Kashti said it made him wish he could be that cold with Anaysha.

  ‘Do it if you really love me, Kiyan,’ she said.

  Kiyan sat up. He swallowed a lump and saw Kashti dial Anaysha for him. She pressed the speaker button, and together they heard the phone ring. It was picked up on the second ring.

  ‘Where are you, Kiyan? We are all waiting for you. Even your parents are acting weird.’

  Kiyan’s mind went blank. He didn’t register anything except that he told Anaysha that he had fallen out of love with her. And the moment he said it Kashti ended the call, hugging him tightly.

  ‘You just proved to me that you really love me, Kiyan,’ she said, breaking the hug.

  What had he just proved to Anaysha? Kiyan thought.

  * * *

  Anaysha’s Diary

  I never thought this diary of mine would see more ink. I never thought I would be the one who would tear open the gift-wrap of this diary. I never thought you would do this to me, Kiyan. This!

  It’s been a week since he humiliated me in front of my family. ‘I stopped loving you long ago.’ I will never forget those words of his. They have been imprinted on my mind like audio gets recorded on a tape. They can’t be erased. They won’t be taken back. They won’t ever perish.

  I remember how my family was behaving when I came to my senses that night. Instead of being empathetic, every elder felt it was their duty to accuse me. As if I was at fault for the family’s embarrassment. As if I had asked Kiyan not to attend our engagement and humiliate my family and myself. Nobody told me, ‘Don’t worry, everything will be all right.’ Instead, everyone ignored me. Apart from my cousins who were children and too young to fully understand the situation, nobody talked to me. Why? Because I chose Kiyan. I had gone against everyone to be the first girl in the entire family to get engaged to someone who didn’t belong to my community, and most importantly, to someone who I had picked myself. Never before had a Gupta girl gone ahead and married someone of her choice. And I know that after what happened last week, no other girl will. Or will be allowed to. Till last week I was a rebel for my cousins. Now, they think of the same person as an example of what can happen if you don’t listen to elders and dare to take your decisions on your own. I have never felt so helpless, so defeated or so unwanted ever before. Not all of these feelings together at least. So many times I wanted to call Kiyan back, message him and ask him what suddenly went wrong. What did I do? I fucking invested 5 years in him, supported him, stood by him and tolerated all his shitty behaviour, only because I loved him. And what did I get? Not only was I ditched and had my heart broken, but I also became an excuse for my family to label me as an immature ass.

  I haven’t dared to look at myself in the mirror since that day. But I can feel my eyes have swollen. I haven’t had a proper bath, and my head feels heavy and reels at times. The family doctor came to check on me and said my blood pressure has increased. I keep myself locked in my room with no connection to the outside world. Once in a while I access WhatsApp and check Kiyan’s DP. Not to ask him anything but to ask myself what I saw in him that didn’t let me see the real him? What was it that blinded me so much and for so long? The only good thing about the public humiliation is that no one from my community will now send a proposal for me. At least not for a year. I overheard Papa and Mumma talking about it.

  While writing in this diary, I realized I couldn’t stay here any more. There is negativity in my own house. I think that’s the crux of irony for an Indian girl. Of all the places in the world, her own house at times becomes the worst kind of hell for her. There are so many thoughts in my mind right now that I don’t know which one to focus on. On the nights that followed the engagement fiasco, I kept wondering why Kiyan would say what he did on the day of the engagement? Why couldn’t he tell me before? Not that it would have changed much, except, maybe I would have been spared this kind of public humiliation. Did he want that for me? In all these years, was he brewing hatred for me that I mistook for love? But why would he? I haven’t done anything evil to him. I shy away from taking credit, but the fact will always remain that he is THE Kiyan Roy today because I stood by him when even his parents had washed their hands off him. It was my hard-earned money that fuelled his dreams. Then what did he mean by saying he had fallen out of love with me? Out of love, is that even possible? Unless, of course, it wasn’t love to begin with, but we convinced ourselves it was. Every day we give our minds so much bullshit to feed on that in turn it gives us enough illusions as fodder.

  I don’t know if we will ever meet, Kiyan, but if we do I just want to ask you one simple fucking question:

  WHY?

  WHY!

  10

  Kiyan and Kashti stayed in Goa for a week more after he cancelled the engagement. During this time, they cancelled and rebooked their air tickets twice. For Kiyan, saying no to Anaysha had been a lesson in self-realization. It was something he had never thought he would be able to do. But he had done it. A week had passed by without any contact with Anaysha. How easily he had slipped out of a long relationship and got into another as if it were slippers he was changing. Even if the breakup hadn’t happened by choice, the decision of choosing Kashti over Anaysha had been his.

  What amazed Kiyan was that Kashti too was living in Gurgaon, just like Anaysha and he were till he visited Goa. When they booked a cab from Delhi airport, Kashti made it clear they were going to live together from now on. He was told he could bring his stuff as she had already made space in her flat. His amazement went up a notch when Kashti directed the cab driver to the same apartment where Anaysha and he used to live together. Every time he had flown back from the book events, it was this apartment he had returned to. But why was Kashti taking him there? It was evident she had done her research, but did she want him to collect his stuff first? Would he find Anaysha there?

  ‘This is where I live,’ he said.

  All he got in response was a mysterious smile. They stepped out of the lift on the same floor where Kiyan and Anaysha lived. When he went right, towards his flat, Kashti turned left.

  ‘From now on, you will be living here, Kiyan, not there,’ she said, pulling him towards her.

  ‘You were our neighbour?’ Kiyan wanted to but couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice.

  ‘For the last six months. Anaysha and I have seen each other many times but have never spoken.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I don’t know why we didn’t talk,’ Kashti said and unlocked the door to her flat. By then, Kiyan had noticed his flat was locked, which meant Anaysha wasn’t there. He quickly went towards Kashti’s flat and stepped in.

  ‘I mean, why were you living here as our neighbour?’

  ‘I wanted to steal you from Anaysha,’ Kashti said in a naughty tone and moved forward to draw the curtains of the drawing room. The sun rays seemed to kiss her as she stood by the window. She turned around and said, ‘I’m kidding. It was just a coincidence.’

  Something told Kiyan not to believe her. His eyes fell on his trilogy on a shelf. He frowned and then asked, ‘I know I asked you this before, but I will ask you again. Did you read my books?’

  ‘You mean, was I your fan?’

  Kiyan nodded.

  ‘Nope,’ she said. ‘I bought the books after I saw you at the New Delhi book launch.’

  ‘If you didn’t know me or my work, why did you attend the launch?’

  ‘I didn’t. One of my friends did. And I came there to click her picture with you. And see where we are today. She is yet to know I have fucked her dream author ten times by now. And each time he has given me a belly-contracting, toe-curling orgasm,’ Kashti said, coming over to Kiyan and placing her hands around his neck. He gave her an unsure smile.

  ‘So, how do you like your new pad, mister bestselling author?’

  Mister bestselling author—she had used this to address him after a long time now. He looked around. The flooring was wood. There was an L
ED television on the wall, below which was a long cabinet that had three handmade dolls on each side. On the opposite side was a rack on which there were coloured bottles. Above these, on the wall, were framed photos of Kiyan’s close-ups, the ones that Kashti had clicked during the first book event in New Delhi.

  ‘See, you were here with me even when you weren’t,’ she said, making herself comfortable on a two-seater recliner by the window in the room. Kiyan smiled at her casually and said, ‘This is pretty cosy.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m honoured you like it. The one you shared with Anaysha was pretty dull. I don’t like anything dull.’

  Without reacting to what she had said, Kiyan went to the window, which had a handmade wind chime with the alphabet K hanging from each of the tubes.

  ‘They say if you fantasize hard about what you desire, it is given to you,’ Kashti said, looking at Kiyan. He held on to the wind chimes and looked at her.

  ‘I’ve been fantasizing about you every night since I saw you, Kiyan. Nothing mattered to me except you.’

  ‘Did you see me for the first time at the launch?’

  ‘Yes. At New Delhi.’

  That’s like 9 weeks ago. In 9 weeks, she snatched me away from Anaysha, a person I had a relationship with for 5 years, Kiyan wondered. What did that say about Kashti, and more importantly, about him? Did he move away from Anaysha because it was always supposed to be so, and Kashti was only a means to an end? Wasn’t Kashti’s ‘gift’ the major reason this had happened? Or was he awaiting an opportunity like this to move out of Anaysha’s life and the ‘gift’ had only helped his subconscious cause?

  Kiyan tapped his shirt pocket and then jeans pocket, and remembered he hadn’t been allowed to bring his cigarettes on the flight.

  ‘I’ll be back in two minutes. Need to buy some cigarettes,’ Kiyan said, opening the main door.

  ‘Okay. Let me prepare some lunch for us. I’m so hungry. Would pasta with white sauce do?’

  ‘Certainly,’ he said and locked the door behind him.

  Kiyan went out and called for the elevator, all the while staring at the door of the flat where he used to live with Anaysha. It was still locked. He wished he never had to face her again. What would he even tell her? The truth about the ‘gift’? If he did that, then the remaining respect that Anaysha may have for him—just may—would vanish instantly. In a few days, he would have to convince Kashti to move out from here.

  The elevator doors opened. He stepped in and pressed the ground-floor button. His mind was focussed on Anaysha for the first time since he had decided to call off the engagement. Was he the same person who had helped her in the ATM in Wakhnaghat long ago and fallen in love with her? What happened to that love? What happened to that person? What happened to that promise he had made to himself back then that if she became his partner he would have nothing else to ask for in life? With new realizations, the old promises fade. With new desires, the old self transforms. With new emotional pursuits, the old miles lose significance.

  The elevator reached the ground floor. The doors opened. Kiyan was about to step out when he froze, seeing Anaysha standing there. One of the security guards was helping her with her bags. He entered the elevator. Kiyan took a few steps backwards. Anaysha stepped in. Their eyes remain locked. Neither of them blinked. She looked beaten by life; he looked cornered by it.

  ‘Tenth floor, madam?’ the guard asked.

  Anaysha nodded. The guard pressed the button and turned to ask Kiyan, ‘Tenth floor, sir?’ Kiyan nodded. The guard didn’t know why the two weren’t talking since he thought Kiyan and Anaysha were now husband and wife.

  Anaysha could feel her anger bubbling. She controlled her impulse to hit him. She wanted to talk to him and yet wanted him to initiate it. After all, it was he who had called off the engagement. Kiyan was too tongue-tied to utter anything. This was what he had been afraid of when he had realized Kashti lived in the same building as them. He had planned to quickly move his stuff out of the flat before there was a chance of running into Anaysha. But now there was no option. And this, he knew, would prove to be more hurtful than anything he had felt before.

  The elevator stopped at the tenth floor. The guard was the first one to step out with Anaysha’s luggage. Neither Kiyan nor Anaysha moved.

  ‘Hey, didn’t you go yet?’ Kashti asked, standing by the elevator door.

  * * *

  Anaysha’s Diary

  How does one get over the minute details of a relationship? Ultimately these are the details that magnify themselves and keep tormenting us. You keep thinking how you wasted your time and thought you were being smart. And you have nothing to say because your own judgement of the person outsmarted you. It not only weakens you emotionally but also tells you how incapable you may be of understanding the one you claim you love. I think that’s the worst thing possible—not understanding the person you claim you love even though you have spent so much time with them. It makes you feel wrong about your own self. And then there is the moment-of-truth question whose answer alters the way you perceive love. If you couldn’t understand the person by staying with them for so long, how will you ever understand someone? And if you can’t understand someone, how are you going to love them? And if not love, then why else would you want to settle down with someone?

  These thoughts tormented me so much that I finally decided I would rather get back to Gurgaon than stay in Lucknow. The faces of my family members had become a kaleidoscope, wherein I could see that ill-fated evening reflected again and again. I was a prisoner of my thoughts. That’s why I took the decision to pack and leave home. Papa tried to strike a deal with me. He said he would let me work for one more year and live the way I wanted to, but after that I would have to listen to him. By the last part he meant I would have to get married and leave my job, since most guys from our community were settled in Lucknow or nearby, working in their family businesses. I didn’t say anything. He understood I agreed. One year is a long time. After Kiyan left me humiliated, every moment seemed longer than it actually was. I was used to calling him from office every day. I didn’t know what to do when I couldn’t call him. I told myself a thousand times that he is a dog and a coward who left me, but I still couldn’t help the urge to call him. I’m so used to telling him ‘have your coffee’, ‘do take a noon nap’, ‘don’t overwork yourself in the gym’, ‘don’t forget to have your protein shake’ that I felt my day was incomplete without uttering these things. It was a pathetic, pathetic feeling. I know I’m acting like a loser but I still can’t get over it. Adding ‘used to’ to all the things Kiyan and I did together is terrible. I wonder if Kiyan too feels the same way. I would never know. But what I really want to know is what made him reject me. Or if it’s a ‘who’.

  11

  ‘You came back so quickly?’ Kashti asked, looking straight at Kiyan. She knew who was standing beside him. She was avoiding looking directly at the woman she had stolen Kiyan from.

  ‘I’m yet to go,’ Kiyan said.

  ‘I thought you had already gone, Kiyan,’ Anaysha said curtly.

  The guard kept the luggage by Anaysha’s doorstep and stepped into the elevator. The elevator door shut after Kiyan and Anaysha got off.

  Anaysha kept looking at Kashti. She now conclusively knew the ‘what’ was a ‘who’. This girl standing in front of her had made Kiyan forget whatever she had done for him in all these years.

  ‘I think we can do with a little introduction. What say, Kiyan?’ Kashti said to him and then directed her gaze towards Anaysha, saying, ‘Hi, I’m Kashti, Kiyan’s girlfriend.’ She extended her hand. Anaysha shook it, and said, ‘I’m Anaysha. Kiyan’s . . .’ She almost choked but realized it wouldn’t be good to cry in front of these people who didn’t give a damn about her tears.

  ‘I’m Kiyan’s college friend,’ Anaysha managed to say. Like a movie, her relationship with Kiyan played in her mind—from the ATM in Wakhnaghat and the night train from Chandigarh to the house party in Lucknow to
their life together in Gurgaon. Had it really happened? And the guy she had loved so genuinely had the audacity to bring the girl who had snatched him away from her to their place.

  ‘You two are living here?’ Anaysha asked. Kiyan was about to respond but Kashti spoke up instead, ‘Yes, here,’ and gestured towards her flat. Anaysha wanted to know if it was Kiyan’s decision to be her neighbour. He never had such a nasty sense of humour.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Anaysha,’ Kashti said with a hint of condescension. ‘Excuse us please. I’m in the middle of preparing our lunch, and Kiyan needs to get some cigarettes for himself.’

  Our. The word spliced open Anaysha’s heart. She looked at Kiyan once, her jaw locked tightly with the effort of this interaction, mumbled a soft ‘okay’, turned and unlocked her door. Kiyan saw her go in and lock the door behind her.

  ‘Are you going?’ Kashti asked.

  Kiyan nodded and pressed the elevator button. He wanted to escape quickly and pretend the encounter hadn’t happened.

  When he returned after smoking half a pack of cigarettes, he found Kashti waiting for him, with lunch ready. He joined her at the table. As he speared some fusilli in white sauce on his fork, Kiyan asked, ‘Where are you from, Kashti?’

  ‘Huh?’

  The question took her by surprise, though Kiyan didn’t understand why. It was an obvious question. In fact, the surprising part was that Kiyan was asking such a basic thing about her only after moving in with her.

  ‘I’m from Kanpur.’

  Kiyan heard her response, but his mind was still on the fact that he had dumped his long-term girlfriend. Rather, he was made to. The last part, he knew, didn’t matter any more. He only wished the ‘gift’ Kashti had given him in Goa could be done away with like a bad plot point in a novel. But it was real. And thus all the more scary. A girl who could gift him such a thing could do anything. The ‘gift’ silently screamed the message ‘Don’t mess with me, Kiyan, otherwise . . .’