Suhani's perplexity: Suhani and Mohit #4
Ever since Mohit moved in next door, Sid has been visiting almost every week. He never stayed the night, except that one night. He mostly visited on Saturday afternoons. I have come to expect his messages on Saturday mornings.
“Hey, Suha! Same roommate thing. Want me to pick lunch on my way over?”, he would say every time.
“Hey, Sid! No, we will order in. Waiting.”, I would invariably reply.
He has always given the reason of his roommate and his girlfriend occupying their apartment but I think the real reason is that Sid worries about me. Firstly, the arranged marriage fiasco that broke my heart makes him think I might need a friendly face around. Secondly, the stranger next door, who carefully traces his moves every time he pulls in my driveway and walks to my door, has him worried. He thinks my neighbor is a stalker. He still doesn’t know the cause of his worry in both the cases is one person- Mohit. I couldn’t tell him fearing the consequences.
One day, when we were having lunch, Sid asked, “Do you think the guy next door likes you?”
I almost choke on my food at the question. It was out of the blue. I have a sip of water and reply, “I don’t think it is possible. But why do you ask?”
He replies, “It has been three weeks since he moved. I have come over three to four times and spent one night here. Every time he watches me closely. He makes it pretty obvious when he does. He opens his window overlooking your driveway and stares down at me until I drive away. He opens his door when I get out of my car and walk to your door. He has never said anything to me. Has he approached you?”
I grin at the thought of Mohit getting jealous. It sounds comforting. He broke my heart. I bite the inner walls of my cheek and reply, “He hasn’t spoken to me. I see him leave at around 8 in the morning, on his bike. I leave for my gigs at 5pm. By the time I come back, around 10, his bike is already parked. I think he is weird. He does look at me through his window when I pull in too. I think he is just curious as to who comes in the area. Just one of those nosy persons, I believe.”
It is a lie. A big fat lie. Every day as I walk from the driveway to my door, he opens his door and says my name. I don’t respond and pretend I do not hear him. It has been going on every day for past 20 days. He doesn’t message me anymore though.
Today is Friday and I just got a call from Nehal that the get together has to be moved to the next weekend as Kishan and Rakesh were on tour and it was better to have everyone around. It made sense. I knew Sid would be coming over so the weekend wouldn’t feel that long. I look at the time on my watch as I turn to my street. It is 9:30. I finished early today. Today’s open mic had only few presenters and even fewer audience. It was a dull crowd. I feel exhausted because the adrenaline rush I usually got from the laughter of my audience was amiss in today’s gig. I approach my driveway and see a car parked. I know Mohit doesn’t have a car. Maybe he has a visitor. He never has anyone visit him when I am around. I don’t care. He should have been considerate enough to have asked them to park on the street. This is my parking space. I want to get angry but I am blushing because I will have to knock on his door and talk to him.
Thought: I want to see the look in his eyes when he sees me at his door. I think they would be expectant. I think they would light up. But when I furiously just tell him to get the car removed from my spot, I think I will hurt him. The thought of hurting him comforts me.
Counter-thought: What has happened to you, young lady? When did you become so cold hearted?
Thought: He did hurt me.
Counter-thought: It is quite unbecoming of you. For a change, be polite. Maybe it will go a long way. You can become friends at least. He broke up with her and moved here for you. The least you can do is stop being mean.
I sigh. I know I have to leave it all behind me. I park on the street and walk to his door. I did not see him on his window today. Maybe he wasn’t expecting me this soon or maybe he is busy with his guest. I reach his door but I battle with the thought of knocking his door or walking straight to my door for a few seconds. As I am about to walk away to my house, I hear his door unlock. I am prepared to greet him with a smile. A pleasant one. It is not forced. As I see him, my eyes light up. He seems confused at first but then I see regret in his eyes. I believe it is because he still feels guilty. I smile even more to reassure him that I am ready to forgive him. A lady emerges from behind him. She is wearing a saree and is holding a handbag. She looks to be around 35 years old. She is wearing a black beaded neckpiece, proving she is married.
We make eye contact and she smiles back. Mohit’s glance shifts from me to her. He steps aside to let her walk towards me. She says, “Hi! I am Cynthia.”
I reply, “Hello! I am Suhani. I am Mohit’s neighbor.”
She lets out a chuckle and says, “Well! I used to be his neighbor. I wish he had stayed that way.”
I am no longer smiling. Mohit is looking at his feet. He is utterly embarrassed. I know she is the lady with whom he had affair. She is here. She must be coming here every evening. Today I unexpectedly caught them. I have no idea what I am supposed to do. I want to throw punches at Cynthia until I knock some sense into her. I want to scratch Mohit’s face for being a liar; for bringing his nonsense around my home.
I look down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I think the pause has been too long. Mohit breaks the silence and says, “Cynthia was just leaving.”
I force a smile and look at him, “So am I. I just came to ask if your guest would be leaving soon. I wanted to park my car. But take your time. I will park later.”
I glance at Cynthia and say, “Nice meeting you.”
If the pants on fie euphemism was true, I would have had a third degree burn for this sentence. I hate her.
I turn around and walk towards my door. She whispers something to him and he says sternly, “I think you should leave. Good night!”
As I unlock my door and walk in, I furtively glance in their direction. He has shut his door. She starts to walk to her car. I decide to wait a little before I move my car.
I pull out my phone and call Sid. I think I need a drink. I think I need a bottle. I need a friend. I need to tell him everything. I no longer fear the consequences. I want him and Rakesh to come and beat Mohit up. He continues to hurt me.
Sid doesn’t answer. He must be having one of his wild nights. Ever since he broke up with May, he has been going on casual dates. He complained how he never got lucky. Maybe tonight was his night. I decide not to call him again.
I drop my phone on my dining table. I walk towards the kitchen to have a glass of water. I need to calm down. I hate Mohit. I hate him the most. Suddenly tears start rolling down my cheeks. I think I have never been this angry. I lean against the refrigerator and start to sob. I hear a knock on my door. I don’t want to open it. I feel I have been overcome with sadness so much so that I feel my legs can no longer hold me. I want to collapse on the ground. The knock is louder now. I take a deep breath and ask, “Who is it?”
“It is Mohit, Suhani!”, he says from across the door.
The response gives me enough strength to walk to the door. I want to scream at him. I think if I punch him, this will all go away. I stop right at the door. I decide not to open it. I ask, “What do you want?”
He says, “Cynthia left. Do you want me to move your car?”
I have changed my mind. I want to kill him. Shouldn’t his question be if I am fine? I clearly was very disturbed by the encounter. Shouldn’t he owe me an explanation? I am infuriated. I angrily open the door.
He standing right at my door. His head is resting on the door frame. He has tears in his eyes. His face is full of regret.
I am puzzled. I do not care about his tears. I angrily ask, “What is wrong with you? Why would you bring your nonsensical affair next door to me? Is this why you moved here? To try to assuage our situation and secretly continue your affair with Cynthia?”
Tears start rolling down my cheeks. I don’t think I am crying but somehow tears keep coming.
He sighs and says, “I do not know if you have it in you to believe me. I never wanted to lie to you. I never have and I never will. After I broke up with her, I severed all contact with her. She got my address from my old landlord. She showed up today for the first time about 15 minutes before you showed up. She wanted to get back together. She said that she would leave her husband and we can be together. I told her that I have moved on and that it was all too late, too little. I told her I love someone else and would marry only that girl. She said that it wasn’t easy for her and that I should at least give her a shot. I got up and asked her to leave. I went to open the door so that she knows my intentions clearly. That is when I saw you at my door. Your smile made me know that you were ready to be at least friends but I knew, I was certain, Cynthia’s presence would wreck all possible bridges that have been built between us in past few days.”
He looks directly into my eyes and says, “Please! I urge you to trust me.”
I do not know what to believe. I cover my face with my hands and cry. I fall down because my sobbing has again made my legs too weak. I feel his hand on my shoulder. I want to punch him but a part of me believes him. I move my hands away from my shoulder and rest them on my knees. I look at him. He is kneeling right in front of me. His eyes are teary and red.
In between my sobs, I say, “I, honestly, do not know what to believe.”
He has no response. He just keeps looking at me.
“Hey, Suha! Same roommate thing. Want me to pick lunch on my way over?”, he would say every time.
“Hey, Sid! No, we will order in. Waiting.”, I would invariably reply.
He has always given the reason of his roommate and his girlfriend occupying their apartment but I think the real reason is that Sid worries about me. Firstly, the arranged marriage fiasco that broke my heart makes him think I might need a friendly face around. Secondly, the stranger next door, who carefully traces his moves every time he pulls in my driveway and walks to my door, has him worried. He thinks my neighbor is a stalker. He still doesn’t know the cause of his worry in both the cases is one person- Mohit. I couldn’t tell him fearing the consequences.
One day, when we were having lunch, Sid asked, “Do you think the guy next door likes you?”
I almost choke on my food at the question. It was out of the blue. I have a sip of water and reply, “I don’t think it is possible. But why do you ask?”
He replies, “It has been three weeks since he moved. I have come over three to four times and spent one night here. Every time he watches me closely. He makes it pretty obvious when he does. He opens his window overlooking your driveway and stares down at me until I drive away. He opens his door when I get out of my car and walk to your door. He has never said anything to me. Has he approached you?”
I grin at the thought of Mohit getting jealous. It sounds comforting. He broke my heart. I bite the inner walls of my cheek and reply, “He hasn’t spoken to me. I see him leave at around 8 in the morning, on his bike. I leave for my gigs at 5pm. By the time I come back, around 10, his bike is already parked. I think he is weird. He does look at me through his window when I pull in too. I think he is just curious as to who comes in the area. Just one of those nosy persons, I believe.”
It is a lie. A big fat lie. Every day as I walk from the driveway to my door, he opens his door and says my name. I don’t respond and pretend I do not hear him. It has been going on every day for past 20 days. He doesn’t message me anymore though.
Today is Friday and I just got a call from Nehal that the get together has to be moved to the next weekend as Kishan and Rakesh were on tour and it was better to have everyone around. It made sense. I knew Sid would be coming over so the weekend wouldn’t feel that long. I look at the time on my watch as I turn to my street. It is 9:30. I finished early today. Today’s open mic had only few presenters and even fewer audience. It was a dull crowd. I feel exhausted because the adrenaline rush I usually got from the laughter of my audience was amiss in today’s gig. I approach my driveway and see a car parked. I know Mohit doesn’t have a car. Maybe he has a visitor. He never has anyone visit him when I am around. I don’t care. He should have been considerate enough to have asked them to park on the street. This is my parking space. I want to get angry but I am blushing because I will have to knock on his door and talk to him.
Thought: I want to see the look in his eyes when he sees me at his door. I think they would be expectant. I think they would light up. But when I furiously just tell him to get the car removed from my spot, I think I will hurt him. The thought of hurting him comforts me.
Counter-thought: What has happened to you, young lady? When did you become so cold hearted?
Thought: He did hurt me.
Counter-thought: It is quite unbecoming of you. For a change, be polite. Maybe it will go a long way. You can become friends at least. He broke up with her and moved here for you. The least you can do is stop being mean.
I sigh. I know I have to leave it all behind me. I park on the street and walk to his door. I did not see him on his window today. Maybe he wasn’t expecting me this soon or maybe he is busy with his guest. I reach his door but I battle with the thought of knocking his door or walking straight to my door for a few seconds. As I am about to walk away to my house, I hear his door unlock. I am prepared to greet him with a smile. A pleasant one. It is not forced. As I see him, my eyes light up. He seems confused at first but then I see regret in his eyes. I believe it is because he still feels guilty. I smile even more to reassure him that I am ready to forgive him. A lady emerges from behind him. She is wearing a saree and is holding a handbag. She looks to be around 35 years old. She is wearing a black beaded neckpiece, proving she is married.
We make eye contact and she smiles back. Mohit’s glance shifts from me to her. He steps aside to let her walk towards me. She says, “Hi! I am Cynthia.”
I reply, “Hello! I am Suhani. I am Mohit’s neighbor.”
She lets out a chuckle and says, “Well! I used to be his neighbor. I wish he had stayed that way.”
I am no longer smiling. Mohit is looking at his feet. He is utterly embarrassed. I know she is the lady with whom he had affair. She is here. She must be coming here every evening. Today I unexpectedly caught them. I have no idea what I am supposed to do. I want to throw punches at Cynthia until I knock some sense into her. I want to scratch Mohit’s face for being a liar; for bringing his nonsense around my home.
I look down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I think the pause has been too long. Mohit breaks the silence and says, “Cynthia was just leaving.”
I force a smile and look at him, “So am I. I just came to ask if your guest would be leaving soon. I wanted to park my car. But take your time. I will park later.”
I glance at Cynthia and say, “Nice meeting you.”
If the pants on fie euphemism was true, I would have had a third degree burn for this sentence. I hate her.
I turn around and walk towards my door. She whispers something to him and he says sternly, “I think you should leave. Good night!”
As I unlock my door and walk in, I furtively glance in their direction. He has shut his door. She starts to walk to her car. I decide to wait a little before I move my car.
I pull out my phone and call Sid. I think I need a drink. I think I need a bottle. I need a friend. I need to tell him everything. I no longer fear the consequences. I want him and Rakesh to come and beat Mohit up. He continues to hurt me.
Sid doesn’t answer. He must be having one of his wild nights. Ever since he broke up with May, he has been going on casual dates. He complained how he never got lucky. Maybe tonight was his night. I decide not to call him again.
I drop my phone on my dining table. I walk towards the kitchen to have a glass of water. I need to calm down. I hate Mohit. I hate him the most. Suddenly tears start rolling down my cheeks. I think I have never been this angry. I lean against the refrigerator and start to sob. I hear a knock on my door. I don’t want to open it. I feel I have been overcome with sadness so much so that I feel my legs can no longer hold me. I want to collapse on the ground. The knock is louder now. I take a deep breath and ask, “Who is it?”
“It is Mohit, Suhani!”, he says from across the door.
The response gives me enough strength to walk to the door. I want to scream at him. I think if I punch him, this will all go away. I stop right at the door. I decide not to open it. I ask, “What do you want?”
He says, “Cynthia left. Do you want me to move your car?”
I have changed my mind. I want to kill him. Shouldn’t his question be if I am fine? I clearly was very disturbed by the encounter. Shouldn’t he owe me an explanation? I am infuriated. I angrily open the door.
He standing right at my door. His head is resting on the door frame. He has tears in his eyes. His face is full of regret.
I am puzzled. I do not care about his tears. I angrily ask, “What is wrong with you? Why would you bring your nonsensical affair next door to me? Is this why you moved here? To try to assuage our situation and secretly continue your affair with Cynthia?”
Tears start rolling down my cheeks. I don’t think I am crying but somehow tears keep coming.
He sighs and says, “I do not know if you have it in you to believe me. I never wanted to lie to you. I never have and I never will. After I broke up with her, I severed all contact with her. She got my address from my old landlord. She showed up today for the first time about 15 minutes before you showed up. She wanted to get back together. She said that she would leave her husband and we can be together. I told her that I have moved on and that it was all too late, too little. I told her I love someone else and would marry only that girl. She said that it wasn’t easy for her and that I should at least give her a shot. I got up and asked her to leave. I went to open the door so that she knows my intentions clearly. That is when I saw you at my door. Your smile made me know that you were ready to be at least friends but I knew, I was certain, Cynthia’s presence would wreck all possible bridges that have been built between us in past few days.”
He looks directly into my eyes and says, “Please! I urge you to trust me.”
I do not know what to believe. I cover my face with my hands and cry. I fall down because my sobbing has again made my legs too weak. I feel his hand on my shoulder. I want to punch him but a part of me believes him. I move my hands away from my shoulder and rest them on my knees. I look at him. He is kneeling right in front of me. His eyes are teary and red.
In between my sobs, I say, “I, honestly, do not know what to believe.”
He has no response. He just keeps looking at me.
I control my tears. I wipe my face with my sleeves and take a deep breath. He moves his hand away from my shoulder. In a much calmer tone, I finally ask, “After all the hurt you have caused me, you owe me one honest answer. Why did you move next door?”
He looks down and says, “For you. I thought if I moved next door, you would see me for who I am. I thought maybe seeing me here would help you believe that that one lunch together months back could actually be our everyday. I wanted you to never forget that what we felt that day, was mutual. I hoped you would notice that when I waited for you to return home every night and called out your name, you would turn and see in my eyes my love for you.”
He looks into my eyes and says, “Honestly! I didn’t move from my apartment mid-lease because I wanted to get away from Cynthia. She never meant anything to me.”
I am no longer crying. I am a fool but I believe him. I look down on my hands resting on my knees. He puts his hand on my hand. I say, “I was in search for certainty and stability. You make me question everything I have known about people. You complicate things.” He looks disappointed. He removes his hand from mine and prepares to stand.
I hold his hand and continue, “With you, I’m willing to take the risk. All that your past holds is immaterial. I would love a future with you, even if it’s on my own peril.” He embraces me. I don’t hold back anymore.
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