Three mistakes of my life

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Seventeen

Hold it tight, it is shaking,' Omi said. He stood on his toes on a stool to reach
the ceiling. We wanted to drop the tricolour ribbons from the ceiling fan. I held
the legs of the stool, Ish stood next to us with glue and cellotape.
'I'll fall,' Omi warned, dangling his right foot off the stool.
'It's not my fault. The stool has creaky legs,' I said.
I never wanted to celebrate Republic Day, which came in a week. However, we
did want to celebrate our resurrection after the earthquake a year ago. Though
thoughts about that day still made me tremble, I was relieved to have fully paid
off our loans. Our business had tripled from a year ago and it all happened from
this shop.
'January 26 preparations? Keep it up,' Mama's entry distracted us all. Omi
toppled from the stool and landed on the floor. The ribbons fell on his head.
'You let go!' he accused me as everyone laughed.
Mama placed a brown bag of samosas and some yellow pamphlets on the table.
We grabbed a samosa each.
'What exactly are you counting?' I asked idly. 'The number of times we have
made love,' she replied. 'Wow, our score is eight already.' 'You keep track?' I said.
'I keep track of a lot of things.' 'Like what?'
'Like today is 21 Feb, only five days to my period. Hence, it is a safe day.'
'It's safe anyway. I used a condom,' I said as I shifted my cushion for comfort.
'Oh? So now you trust physics over mathematics?' she said and giggled. She
flipped over to rest on her elbows and poked her toes into my shins.
'Are you still embarrassed to buy condoms?'
'I get them from an unknown chemist in Satellite. And I have enough now for a
while.'
'Oh really,' she climbed over me. 'So no problem in using a couple more then?'
With that, our score reached nine.
'Goodnight aunty,' I said to Vidya's mom. I always hated that part, the point
when aunty offered me something to eat or asked me why I worked so hard.
I walked back home with my thoughts. Nine times in two months. We made
love on an average of once a week. Nine times meant I had lost all benefit of
doubt. I couldn't say that I had made love to her by accident, in an impulsive
moment. You don't do things by accident nine times. Though sometimes, another
kind
of accident can happen. And I found out exactly five days later.
'There is something you should know,' she said.
We had come to the Ahmedabad Textile Industries Research Association's
(ATIRA) campus lawns. She had SMSed me that we needed to go for an 'urgent
walk', whatever that meant. We had said at home that we had to go and buy a
really good maths guide. No one questioned us after that. The ATIRA lawns in
Vastrapur swell with strollers in the evening. Several couples held hands. I
wanted to but did not. We fixed our gaze on the ground and did a slow walk. Fat
aunties wearing sarees and sneakers and with a firm resolve to lose weight
overtook us.
'What's up?' I said and bought a packet of groundnuts.
'Something is late,' she said.I tried to think of what she was referring to. I couldn't.
'What?' I said.
'My period,' she said.
Men cannot respond when the P-word is being talked about. For the most part,
it freaks them out.
'Really? How?' I said, struggling for words.
'What do you mean how? It should have happened yesterday, the 25th, but
hasn't.'
'Are you sure?'
'Excuse me? I wouldn't know if it has happened?' she said and stopped to look
at me.
'No, I meant are you sure it was due on 25th Feb?' 'I am not that bad at
maths.'
'Ok but...,' I said. I had created the problem. I had nothing of value to offer in
the discussion. I offered her groundnuts. She declined.
'But what?' she said.
'But we used protection. And how does it work with girls? Are they always on
time?' I asked. Nothing in the world was always exactly on time.
'Mine are. Normally I don't care. But now that I am with you, even a slight
delay scares me. And the anxiety creates more delay'
'Do you want to see a doctor?' I was desperate to suggest a solution.
'And say what? Please check if I am pregnant?'
Another P-word to freak men out. No, she did not say that 'You can't be
pregnant?' I said.
Sweat erupted on my forehead like I had jogged thrice around the ATIRA lawns.
I rubbed my hands and took deep breaths.
'Why not?' she retorted, her face tense. 'And can you be supportive and not
hyperventilate.'
'Let's sit down,' I said and pointed to a bench. I threw the packet of groundnuts
in the dustbin. She sat next to me. I debated whether I should put my arm
around her. My being close to he had caused this anyway. She kept quiet. Two
tears came rolling out of her eyes. God, I had to figure out something. My mind
processed the alternatives at lightning speed, (a) Make her laugh - bad idea,{b)
Step away and let her be - no, (c) Suggest potential solutions like the A word - hell
no, (d) Hold her - maybe, ok hold her, hold her and tell her you will be there for her.
Do it, moron.
I slid closer to her on the bench and embraced her. She hid her face on my
shoulder and cried. Her hands clutched my shirt
'Don't worry, I will be there for you,' I said.
'Why, why is it so unfair? Why do only I have to deal with this?' she cried, 'why
can't you get pregnant at the same time?'
Because I am biologically male, I wanted to say. But I think she knew that.
'Listen Vidya, we used the rhythm method, we used protection I know it is not
hundred per cent but the probability is so low...'
Vidya just shook her head and cried. Maths is always horrible at reassuring
people. Nobody believed in probability in emotional moments.
A family walked by. The man carried a fat boy on his shoulders. I found it
symbolic of the potential burden in my life. The thought train started again. I am
twenty-two years old. I have big dreams for my business. I have my mother tosupport. Come to think of it, I have to take care of my friends' careers too. And
Vidya? She is only eighteen. She has to study more, be a PR person or whatever
she wants to be. She couldn't move from one prison to the next. Ok, worst case I
have to mention the A-word.
She slid away from me. The crying had made her eyes wet and face pink. She
looked even more beautiful. Why can't men stop noticing beauty, ever? We stood
up to walk back after a few minutes.
'Let's wait for a day or two more. We'll see what we have to do then,' I said as
we reached the auto stand.
'It's probably a false alarm. I'm overreacting. I should have waited for a day or
two longer before telling you,' she said. She clasped my fingers in the auto. Her
face vacillated from calm to worried.
We kept quiet in the auto for five minutes. Then I had to say it. 'Vidya, in case,
just in case it is not a false alarm. What are we going to do? Or should we talk
about it later?'
'You tell me, what do you want to do?'
When women ask you for your choice, they already have a choice in mind. And
if you want to maintain sanity, you'd better choose the same.
I looked into her eyes to find out the answer she expected from me. I couldn't
find it.
'I don't know. This is too big a news for me. I can't say what we will do.
Pregnancy, abortion, I don't know how all this works.'
'You want me to get an abortion?'
'No, no. I said I don't know. What's the other option, marriage?'
'Excuse me, I am eighteen. I just passed out of school,' she said.
'Then what?'
'I don't know. I don't want to think. Please don't talk about it,' she said.
We kept quiet for the rest of the auto journey.
'Here, take this maths guide to show at home,' I said and passed her a book
when she reached home.
Vidya and I exchanged ten 'are you asleep' and 'not yet' messages that night.
'What's up?' Ish said as I laid my head on the cashbox early morning.
'Nothing. Couldn't sleep well,' I said.
'Why? Thinking of Pandit-ji's daughter,' Ish laughed. I ignored him. Every few
hours I had the urge to send Vidya a 'did anything happen' message. But she
would tell me if something happened. I opened a calendar and tracked all the
past dates of our intimacy. Apart from the first time several months ago, I had
used protection every time. Could they be late for any other reason? I didn't know
and I could not ask anyone. Ish and Omi probably didn't even know the P-word.
And there was no other woman I knew apart from Vidya. And I couldn't ask mom
anyway. I picked up my phone again. 'How is it going?', I sent a neutral message.
'Nothing yet', she replied back.
The next night I did get some sleep. I sprang out of bed early morning to SMS
her again. I had an SMS from her already, 'a bit of pain, nothing else'.
I threw the phone away. I wanted to reach the shop early to take out supplies
from the godown. Somehow, I hated being late anymore.