I came back into the living room after an unromantic and surprisingly short conversation with my fiancée. She was about to take a bath and had hence asked whether I could call her back later. My fiancée you see had a quirky habit of bathing at least twice a day – in winter! To be honest, I had nothing to say to her about this. After all, this was an arranged marriage and I needed to take things slowly, lest they unravel away to panic attacks or embarrassing interludes. That my opinions on bathing matched those of the thinking man’s superstar - Aamir Khan (he hates taking a bath!) had nothing to do with this. So I sweetly replied “Sure… will call you back later!” and headed for my 2^nd favorite place in the apartment – the couch that allowed me to be a passive potato.

The clock was on the verge of striking nine, and so without much ado, I quickly flipped through channels to finally stop at ‘Star World’. It was time for my weekly doze of coffee, with a certain Karan. For the uninitiated, I am speaking of the celebrity chat show ‘Koffee with Karan’ – spelt with a numerological twang, to accommodate the whims and fancies of its celebrated producer-director-host – Karan Johar. Now Karan, for anyone dwelling under a rock, is considered by many to be an unpretentious combination of style, effervescence, glib, and substance (not abuse, hopefully). The fact that he had most, if not all of the celebrity guests, many of whom were also his close friends or social acquaintances, wrapped around his coffee mug, made his show a must watch!

Be it the dare to bare ‘Rapid Fire’ round, or the recently added ‘Bollywood Quiz’ section, I loved this show ever since it was launched almost 5 years back. Its sole intention it seemed was to make the glitterati ditch diplomacy and instead succumb to an almost incurable ‘foot in the mouth’ disease while they vied to win the by now legendary ‘Coffee Hamper’. Incidentally, the guests on the show today happened to be my current favorite actress - a no longer single, and yet as feisty - Vidya Balan, and the multi talented and very much married director, singer, and actor - Farhan Akhtar. To be honest, I was looking forward to their next film – ‘Shaadi Ke Side Effects’, and really wanted to check out the kind of chemistry they shared.

I neither wished to pickup any, nor for that matter get influenced by, the so called ‘side effects of marriage’ which this film was all about. I instead was looking forward to some generous doze of entertainment to help end a weekend on a high note. About 15 minutes into the show, just when things were heating up with Vidya candidly confessing to be a harmless flirt who could also be a tease, my phone abruptly buzzed into life. It was an unidentified number almost impossible to place. Muting the Television, I picked up the phone “Hello?”

The person on the other side softly whispered “Remember me?” – It was a voice I did not clearly recognize, yet it managed to send my heart racing, in a way I couldn’t quite fathom. To buy myself some time in correctly guessing who was on the line, I was forced to use my favorite probing question for such situations - “What a pleasant surprise… so how are you?”

Not to be taken in that easily, she replied “I will come to that later – but why don’t you start off by identifying who I am?” – There were just two people who could have spoken to me so confidently – one of them being my childhood friend, now happily married to an IT professional and settled in the world’s top IT Hub - Bangalore.

“Kaajal?” I asked, breathlessly, hoping against hope that the call had come through from Bangalore…

“This is Deepika” she replied, and almost immediately my heartbeats accelerated.

You see, I was wrong. How could I have not guessed that it was her? The one who once stayed about a kilometer away from my home, worked in the same organization, and availed of the same office transport… Her name was Deepika Datta. My mind was flooded with images of her face, and with it, a serene smile that had almost single handedly, against my better judgment, forced me into taking an action I had regretted ever since.

Before I could say something, Deepika continued “It was exactly a year and a half from this day when you proposed to me. I now want you back in my life, come what may. It does not matter to me, even if you are married – I will break it if necessary” and then she paused, waiting for me to react.

I could vividly imagine the look on her face then – one of determination – another quality that had attracted me to her in the first place. Somehow her sense of purpose coupled with determination, almost against my parent’s wish, had made me come to believe that we could be much more than just friends, or even colleagues, and actually get to spend the rest of our lives together…

I laughed, almost a bit too shrilly than I intended to, and added “I heard you went onsite to Europe. So where exactly are you calling from? What time is it now?”

“It’s about 5:00 in the morning in Netherlands Ryaan, but then I couldn’t wait to tell you about me; which is why I called you up.”

My mind drifted to that fateful day when I had made it to her bed. It was as clear in my mind’s eye as if it had occurred just yesterday. Images flitted across my mind that I had managed to safely lock away in a trunk meant for rusty memories. Hidden away in a corner of my conscience, and surrounded by cobwebs of forgetfulness. Yet suddenly it fluttered into my line of sight and tempted me with a string of emotions that I had not felt in a long time.

“I can be a mother Ryaan… Yes… it’s true! I no longer need the medicines!” she spluttered with excitement, and then suddenly, like a gush of wind that had finally pushed open the window in a fit of rage, it all came back to me…

She screamed as hard as she could even as her face, blotched by a sense of betrayal, twisted with indignation… “No” she pleaded… “Let me go… Let go off me…” Yet the hands that had pinned her onto the ground did not relent. Her legs kicked and pushed even as her nails desperately dug into the flesh of her tormentor…

My fingers automatically went over to my wrist – the scratch marks were long gone, yet the feelings I had felt then surfaced seamlessly, sending a shiver down my spine.

“It’s been five days since I stopped taking them.” She whispered, and I could distinctly imagine her eyes twinkling with delight as she continued, “Yes Ryaan... stopped them altogether!”

Her face convulsed with hiccups even as tears streamed down her eyes. She was hugging herself now, even as her chin rested upon her knees which she had drawn together into her bosom, whether to seek comfort, or discard discomfort, no one could tell. Suddenly, in between the sobs, she managed to look up at the man standing in front of her and whisper “I had believed you… Believed in you… How could you do this to me?”

I somehow dragged my meandering mind back into the conversation. “That’s great news indeed! But first, why don’t you tell me something about the place you live in? Where all have you been? What all did you see?”

“I’m staying in a place called Amersfoort which is located in the heart of Netherlands. In fact this happens to be the second largest city in the province of Utrecht.” She replied, her tone hinting at an undertone of pride.

“And what all did you see there?” I added, buying time even as my mind struggled to grapple with the consequences of the situation I had at hand.

I can never be quite sure, what worked, but she seemed to have taken the bait. Maybe it was my easy going and once more conversational tone. Maybe it was the time of the day. Maybe it was lady luck deciding to give me a second chance at making amends. Whatever it might have been, she began to speak, and this time there was no holding back.

“The state museum was good! I also liked Onze Lieve Vrouwetoren – The Tower of My Lady, and the various hof markets I went to from time to time. But do you know what I enjoyed the most?”

“What?” I asked, my tone hardly betraying any hint of the emotions rummaging through my mind and stomping across my heart “A restaurant called Van Gogh Fritters – especially due to the fries they serve there accompanied by American Paprika. I found the place on my way back from work once, and had so much of it that I did not even have to eat dinner! It was just awesome!”

Somehow, as she spoke, I realized that the conversation was indeed headed towards the direction I wanted it to go to. “That seems really interesting!” I answered, truthfully “but what about the place you stay at?”

“I love my apartment here at Logimente de Graaper, especially the fact that I can do my own cooking here!” she said, sighing with contentment “there is a church right across the street - St. Joris Kerk also referred to as St George's Church. The funny thing is, the clock chimes every half an hour, and strangely I am already used to it! I went there on Christmas Eve. It was breathtaking!”

For a moment I could not speak as I pictured her – happy and carefree – living a life of independence that she craved for. But then, at what cost?

“Deepika”, I said, realizing that it had to be me to break it to her “There is something I need to tell you…”

But before I could finish, she stopped me “I know… that you are engaged”

I paused midway, somehow stopping myself from gasping as she continued, her voice trembling slightly, “I saw it on the profile of a common Facebook friend. I guess you had tagged him on a post where you mentioned about it to your friends. I guess not being friends on Facebook isn’t always a deterrent to finding out stuff, especially when one has common friends, isn’t it?”

There were many things I should have said to her then…

“I am sorry Deepika for breaking your trust and holding you down with force against your wishes, so that the intravenous injection could be administered”

“I am sorry Deepika for playing along with your parents and tricking you into going to the mental ward of the hospital at Kolkata, and then helping to convince you to move to NIMHANS in Bangalore”

“I am sorry Deepika for telling you, over and over again, that everything will be alright, when I knew that it wouldn’t ever be”

“I am sorry… for making you dream of a future with me, of kids that you would never be able to conceive, of a family that you would never belong to… I am sorry about everything Deepika”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

Deepika has Bipolar Disorder. Unlike most of us, she cannot rein in her emotions. Ironic, isn’t it? We all want to be happy in life, and she actually gets to be jubilant, albeit in a manic way leading to uncontrollable and dangerously ill reversible decisions. Almost as bad, if not worse, is the severe depression with suicidal tendencies that she also sometimes feels. But do you know what is worst? The effects of the attack usually last for days, if not weeks and months.

One of the most effective medications used to treat Bipolar Disorder is the drug Lithium. But it does have terrifying side effects including Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) along with insulin resistance. In short with continued use, Deepika’s chances of having a child were dim, if not impossible, especially because she also suffered from Thyroid.

And do you know what I suffered from? From a sense of guilt at not having stopped myself from falling in love with a woman I could never stay with forever. Ironically I made her so happy, that she became maniacal and had a series of attacks that made it impossible for her to lead any semblance of a normal life. The only way for me to save her was to make her feel that she needed to break up with me. That I was not worth her, that I could never make her happy. That she was better off without me.

And I did all of that… lulling her into a sense of false hope and comfort, only to break her trust and manipulate her to break up with me.

She wanted to escape from her parents, who she cared for dearly. But as her moods swung, those she actually held dear became her greatest enemies. She had once lodged an FIR against her parents – for she believed they were poisoning her. She always felt she was just like everyone else and did not require medication to survive. It dulled her, changed the way she thought, and prevented her from being the person she wanted to be. And so she wanted to escape – with me – to a world of togetherness. The seed of hope that I had planted in her mind had gradually grown into a lovely sapling which she nourished with care. For she believed it would one day grow into a tree and finally bear fruit.

As the doctors probed and prodded her over weeks at one of India’s top medicinal institutions and slowly began to bound her to a life of monotony and routine, she held on to the hope that another institution – the institution of marriage – would finally set her free. But that was not meant to be…

Thank you for giving me the greatest gift on my Birthday Ryaan - by revealing your true self. I am but a fool to have believed in you. You are no better than my parents who talk sweetly, only to bite viciously the next moment. What did they offer you to betray me? I thought I could trust you; to be with you, to care for you… But alas… You are not fit for my love. Goodbye and please don’t ever try to stay in touch with me.

And just like that, once again, I had made her believe that which I never wanted to be – a traitor not worthy of the greatest gift – her love.

“Ryaan are you there?” she asked, a hint of doubt creeping into her voice.

“Yes Deepika…” I hastily retorted, jumping back into the world of missed opportunities, from my short reverie.

“So as I was saying,” she continued “Congratulations! When are you getting married?”

“It’s on the 7^th of March,” I blurted out, “and the reception is on Sunday, the 9^th.”

I paused, not quite sure why, not yet sure for how long, and then softly whispered, “I am sorry Deepika.”

“For what?” she asked, seeming genuinely surprised this time.

I took a deep breath before replying “For failing you. For failing to be the man you expected me to be.”

“Don’t blame yourself Ryaan” she replied “I have thought about it since and I realize it now. We would have been happy had we both married each other.”

I caught my breath for a moment, even as my heart throbbed unwarily…

“But…” she continued, “I am happier living the way I am. Living an independent life, Skyping with my parents whom I had somehow never gotten that well off with, but with whom I am finally friends.”

“Do you know what I did the other night?” she asked, her voice brimming with emotions so interlaced, it was difficult to separate the feelings of joy from excitement. But before I could even offer her an answer, she herself answered her question… “I had Tequila shots!”

“What?” I asked surprised, knowing as I did that Deepika was a teetotaler.

“Well you should try everything at least once, now isn’t it?” she replied laughing. “Life might never give you second chance!”

“So, did you enjoy it?” I asked, smiling freely for the first time during the conversation.

“Yes and No. I enjoyed the fact that I was doing it, but did not like the way it made me feel. Probably I had high expectations from it.”

I laughed, in spite of myself, but abruptly stopped as I heard her clear her throat.

“There is something I expect from you. Would you be able to give it?”

“What?” I asked, my thoughts not daring to break through the shackles of convention.

“Can we be friends once again on Facebook? Can I be given at least a second chance Ryaan?”

I did not reply to her then. I couldn’t you see, for I had already disconnected the phone. A few minutes later I moved over to the dining table and silently had a light dinner of macaroni with cheese. I next dialed up my fiancées number. We spoke for about 15 minutes before a series of yawns intercepted our conversation. I wished her a good night, and sweet dreams, before finally returning the receiver to the cradle.

It wasn’t until after another 10 minutes that I logged back onto Facebook. I had one notification and two messages. But I instinctively knew which one to read first. It was, as expected, from a certain Ms Datta.

Thank you for sending me a friend request. I wish you a wonderful life…