Under The Mango Trees

Chapter Forty-Nine : In Between His Love

"You told them WHAT?" I stared at Dev, aghast, and the few people on the secluded street turned to us. I was accusing him of a crime bigger than homicide. What crime he committed was the abuse of the mind that would lead to the death of the body. My body. It was blasphemous and indignation flared in me as if I had witnessed a worm eating away the insides of a flourishing plant. "Why did you tell your parents about us? What if they tell my parents? Why did you have to do that?!"

"Because you're important to me," he said, grabbing my waist and pulling me to him in the simplest, smoothest, suavest way. His easy manner which I would otherwise admire for embellishing his elegance now frightened me. He had not heard a word of what I had shouted, to him, the logical thing to do was always the only and correct thing to do. I could see it in his honey-brown eyes that were serene, not a fleck of amber sparked in them despite the fierce rays of the summer sun.

"You'll make me unimportant to my parents! The second they hear about us, I'm done for. They already hate your family for what happened with Pavitra and the wedding. If they get to know I have a boyfriend, especially you---"

"They won't tell your parents," he said, but not in defence, his voice was unwavering like a stagnant pool of water. No ripples, let alone a loud splash. "They don't mind that we're dating." Then a smile touched his voice, so faint that I wouldn't have known his pleasure if it weren't for his luminous face in front of me. "They like you a lot."

"Really?" I couldn't conceal the surprised smile since I was pleased to hear that. Not pleased, overjoyed! If he told his parents about me, that meant I mattered to him. That meant we wouldn't ever break up because he couldn't go through the humiliation of de-informing his parents. "And what about your brother? Did he approve of me?"

My greediness was always met by observant silence, ever since I was a child trying to grab fifty sweets in my hands and dropping them promptly at my mother's disapproving look.

"He'll take some time," he said, then noticing my anxious face, he added, "I know how he is. He'll come around soon, don't worry."

"He must believe all women in my family are like Pavitra," I muttered and at his silence that kept unravelling like a spool of thread so fine that one could barely perceive it, I knew that I was right. The earlier bitterness overpowered the sweet joy and left its niggling distaste "If only he knew I'm nothing like her. I don't even have anybody to cheat with. And your parents, they had no objections?"

"They're open-minded people---"

"And my parents are not. Yours are cooler than me, that's it, right?" I cut him off, striding ahead to stop myself from bursting into tears that stung my eyes. I couldn't believe that the one day he could spare to meet me this summer was derailing and ending in an unceremonious crash. Everything about me was inferior to him- my looks, my family and friends, my aspirations (or the complete lack of it). The instant I felt his strong hold on my wrist, his fingers pressing against the soft underside of my flesh, that instant the tears flowed from my eyes.

I didn't dare turn around for the fear of choking on my sobs and humiliating myself more, so after a pause during which he was patient, I continued as steadily as I could, "You don't meet me these days . . . I know you're busy, but this whole summer I could talk with you only through texts. You have so much to do, I have nothing. Now that this-this new year at college is beginning, you have graduated and I won't get to go home with you. I don't even know why I'm going to college when I don't know what I want to major in! The last date to fill the form is tomorrow and---"

With a jerk of my wrist, I was pushed against him and he pulled us safely behind the Jamun tree. The suddenness had stopped my words and when I looked up, the unexpectedness of his severe eyes had stopped my tears. The two buttons of his fitted, black polo t-shirt had undone and I could see his tea-stain like birthmark. It was as if the sun didn't spill on that spot and cast a little shadow there to which I immediately formed a kinship.

"You didn't fill the form?" He raised his eyebrow, his voice soft, yet his eyes were severe that made me lower mine.

"I don't want to do anything." I forced a laugh, in a wasteful attempt to make a joke out of this. Lila was good at veiling her sadness with laughter, why hadn't I learned that trick from her? "I'm going to fail anyway. I have no talent to stand out, no interest to learn, no money to support. Most of the time I wonder why you are dating me?"

"Because you're none of those things that you think you are," he said with such ferocious conviction that I believed the flecks of amber to burn his eyes into blackened ashes. He gripped my chin and tipped it up, forcing me to look at the darkness of his eyes. "Your pessimism makes you think of everything and everyone, including yourself, as ugly and worthless. It's preventing you from aspiring for anything greater than what you think is your limit. I'm not going to praise you for what you cannot see or won't believe since the satisfaction from it will last a minute. But I will say this, you cannot do wrong to the person I love."

"The person you love. . . ?"

"You," he said without hesitation, the ironic look in his eyes returning at my stupid question.

"I-I didn't think you would ever say that," I fought the speechlessness with a smile that I knew was big, my happiness couldn't contain it. "But you're wrong, Dev. I might think of everyone like that, but never you." Standing on my tip-toes, I pressed my lips against the hot skin of his birthmark. He stilled under my lips, his body unmoving. If it wasn't for my consuming happiness, I would have been afraid of that stony stillness. When I pulled away a few seconds later, I saw him shiver the slightest and felt his arms around my waist tighten instinctively. He didn't wish to let go of me. I knew then, by some miracle, he did love me.

I returned home in what felt like the happiest mood I had ever been in, soaring up the flight of stairs and barging into my room without a care. My happiness was thwarted by the ghostly presence of my sister peering through the curtains outside the window. Her hair was long and loose, her pyjamas dull and white from washing.

"He loves you," she echoed, her words long and drawn out. "He always waits at the end of the street to see if you have entered the building."

I got up in confusion and irritation at being disturbed and gazed out, finding the familiar figure of Dev standing at the end of the street. "Wait! How did you know?"

She didn't say anything, not even a smirk, her eyes fixed on his figure as we watched him disappear into the silent night.

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