CHETAN BHAGAT - HALF GIRLFRIEND NOVEL

[novel]

I had proposed to her. The least she could do was give me a reply.
I also felt scared. What if she said no? Maybe her silence meant
no. What if she stopped talking to me? Panic gripped me. I wondered
if proposing to her was the worst mistake of my life.
I decided to call her. I typed her number six times. But I did not
press the green call button. I didn’t have the courage.
My
phone beeped. I had a new message. I opened it.
Am sick . Viral fever. Resting at home.
Relief coursed through me. She had sent back a normal, harmless
message. I wanted to ask about the proposal, but it felt like a bad time.
Un
sure, I froze. Why don’t they teach us how to talk to girls?
Get well soon, I sent after rigorous analysis and deliberation in my
head.
Thanks, she said.
Mis
s you, I typed. Before I could think I pressed send.
She didn’t respond for a minute. It felt like a decade. Had I messed
up again? Was it not the right thing to say?
Th
en come home. Cheer me up.
He
r message felt like a thousand red rose petals on my face. I
checked my timetable. Damn, I had four important, un-skippable
classes. I couldn’t go.
See you in an hour, I said. Classes can wait. Love can’t.

[novel]

10
I knocked on the door of Riya’s bedroom, located on the first floor
of her house.
‘Come in, Madhav,’ Riya said and sniffled, ‘Meet your sick friend.’
She was in bed, leaning against the backrest with her legs stretched
out. She wore a white night-suit with pink dots all over it. She looked
like candy, more cute than ill. Viral fever suited her.
‘Wait. Come back in again. I should sit with a thermometer in my
mouth,’ she said.
I smiled and sat on a chair near her bed.
‘How are you feeling?’ I said.
She shifted to the side and bent to look under the bed. She pulled
out a guitar. Strumming it once, she started to sing.
‘Terrible, I feel terrible. And I need a hug.’
I looked at her, surprised.
‘Because I’m sure. That is my only cure.'
She saw my shell-shocked face and winked at me. Even though
she sang as a joke, I loved her voice and the goofy lyrics of her song.
‘You sing well,’ I said, ‘and the guitar-playing is not bad either.’
‘Ha ha. I feel terrible. I also sing terribly,’ she said.
‘No you don’t.You’re good,' I said.
She smiled and kept her guitar aside. She spread her arms.
‘What?’ I said.
‘I said I need a hug.’
It is funny how women feel they have the right to demand physical
affection whenever they want, but men can’t. Like a trained pet, I
stood up and bent to embrace her.
‘You don’t have fever,’ I said as I held her. Her body felt cold, in
fa
ct.
‘I did a few hours ago. I took a nap and now I am better.’
‘You are fine.’
She mock-frowned. 'I am a sick girl. Please take care of me,’ she
said in a baby voice.
I took that as a sign that she was in a good mood. I voiced what
had been haunting me for the past twenty-four hours.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘The proposal.’
‘Baby, why are you doing this to us?’
‘I can say the same thing to you.’
We
locked eyes for a few seconds. I came forward to kiss her. She
ducked, and my lips landed on her forehead.
‘What?’ I said.
‘That was sweet. I like forehead kisses,’ she said.
I gently took hold of her chin and raised her face. Our eyes met
again. I leaned forward to kiss her again.
She moved her face away with a jerk.
‘What, baby?’ I said. If she could call me baby, I could too.
‘No. No, Madhav, no.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t want to. I’m not comfortable.'
‘We did it earlier.’
‘Yes, okay, we did. But I thought about it and I don’t want to.’
‘You don’t want to be with me?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Well, are you my girlfriend?’
‘No,’
‘What are we then?’
‘Friends?’
‘You allow friends to hold you like this?’
I had not let her go. She gently moved away.
‘Okay, I’m your half-girlfriend.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah. I’m close to you. We spend time together. We can have
affectionate hugs. But nothing more.’
‘Nothing more? What is more?’
‘Well, you know what constitutes more.’
We
heard a knock on the door.
‘It’s the maid. Can you sit on the chair again, please?’ she said. I
moved back to my seat.The maid brought in a tray with two glasses of
orange juice. Riya and I took one each. We sipped our drinks in
silence.
I wondered what she meant when she said ‘half-girlfriend’.Where
was my expert panel when I needed it?
‘What were you saying? Half?’ I said after the maid left.
She nodded. She seemed clear on what she had in mind.
‘So we are more than friends?’ I said.
‘Well, more than just casual friends ’
‘But I don’t get to kiss you?’
‘You are obsessed with kissing, aren’t you? Is that all I am to you,
a pair of lips?’
She finished her glass of juice. It left a thin orange moustache on
her face.Yes, I wanted to kiss that orange moustache.
The maid knocked on the door again. She brought in a giant
bouquet. It had three dozen fat pink roses with thin silk ribbons tying
th
em together.
‘Wow,’ Riya said. ‘Who sent these? You?’
I shook my head. I couldn’t afford such fancy flowers.
The maid placed the bouquet on the bedside table and left.
‘It’s Rohan,’ Riya said, reading the ‘get well soon’ tag.
‘Isn’t he in London?’
‘Yes, but he has contacts here.’
‘Are you in touch with him?’
‘Aha, my half-boyfriend is already possessive.’
‘I’m just asking.’
‘Not really. Dad must have told him I’m sick.’
‘Why is he sending you flowers?’
‘Don’t read too much into it. He owns hotels. It’s easy for him. His
secretary must have asked a hotel in Delhi to send them.’
I remained silent. I had no idea. Maybe rich people found it normal
to send flowers across continents to other rich people who had viral
fe
ver. I stood up to leave. She came to the door to see me off. ‘So, we
cool?’ she said.
I nodded. In reality, I didn’t know what to say. I needed my
fr
iends, like, now.
*
I summoned my expert panel for an urgent meeting. All of us sat
cross-legged on the grass lawns outside Rudra. I narrated my
conversation with Riya, my failed attempts at kissing her, her frequent
hugs and Imally the deal on the table—half-girlfriend. I skipped the
flower delivery, though. I didn’t want to bring another variable or
person into the picture.
‘Half isn’t bad. Depends on how you look at it,’ Ashu said. ‘Halfempty or half-full.’
I idly tugged at blades of grass, waiting for everyone in iny expert
panel to make their opening remarks.
‘Pretty sucky, if you ask me,’ Shailesh said.
‘Pessimist,’ Ashu said. ‘Always glass is half-empty.’
‘No. The half that is missing is pretty vital,’ Shailesh said.
‘Raman?’ I said.
Raman let out a deep sigh. ‘Fuck, if a girl won’t get physical with
you, it’s a warning sign,’ he said.
‘Hell, it’s more than a warning sign,’ Shailesh said. ‘It’s a fire
brigade siren on maximum volume using thousand-watt amplifiers.
Don’t you get it, Mr Dumraon? She is playing with you.’
‘Ashu, you agree?’ I said.
The fat Bihari, always soft and supportive, looked me in the eye.
‘Do you like her?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Do you trust her?’
‘I think so. The way she hugged me again and again. Or how she
called me home. Or how she sits in her night clothes in front of me. I
don’t know. It means something, right?’
‘What is your gut feeling?’
‘My gut is bloody confused. That’s why I am asking you guys.’
An
ar
my of intellectual men cannot solve the riddle created by an
indecisive woman. My limited-experience panel struggled for words.
‘Say no. No half-girlfriend. All or nothing,’ Shailesh said.
‘All means what?’ I said.
‘All means she is your girlfriend, in private and in public,’ Raman
said.
I pondered over their advice. At one level they made sense.
Ho
wever, when I was with Riya, she also seemed to make sense.
‘What do I do? She asked if we were cool and I nodded,’ I said.
‘This stuff is not discussed. This stuff is done,’ Shailesh said.
‘How?’
‘Call her to your room.’
‘And then?’ I said.
The three boys looked at each other and smiled meaningfully. ‘And
th
en what?' I said.
‘Make Bihar proud,’ Raman said and squeezed my shoulder.

[novel]

11
We
had practised for less than ten minutes when she got a stomach
cramp. She held her stomach and gestured to stop the game.
‘I'm not fully okay after the viral attack,’ she said.
She walked off the court and sank to the ground. She buried her
fa
ce in her hands.
‘I need to rest. And I’m a little cold in these.’ She pointed to her
extra-small red shorts.They barely covered her upper thighs.
‘You should have told me. We need not have played today,’ I said.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. She removed her hands from her face and
smiled at me.
It had been a week since my panel recommended taking Riya to
my room again.‘Make Bihar proud, else you don’t matter’ is what they
had repeated to me all week. Today, I had the chance.
‘Hey, you want to rest in my room?’ I said.
‘Sneak in?’
I played it cool.‘Yeah.You rest.Take a nap. I can study, or will even
leave the room if you want me to.’
‘You don’t have to leave your own room.’ She stood up.
She had said I didn’t have to leave. It meant she had agreed to
come to Rudra. Girls never tell you anything straight out anyway.You
have to interpolate and extrapolate their responses to figure out what’s
on their mind.
*
I smuggled her in again. As I shut the door of my room, I knew
my moment of truth had come. Make Bihar proud, make yourself
count, I repeated in my head.
Riya sat on the bed, legs extended straight.
‘Lie down,’ I said.
‘I’m not that sick, just need to rest,’ Riya said and smiled. ‘I see
you’ve cleaned up your room.’
‘Well, it’s still not as fancy as yours.’
‘It’s a room in my father’s house. How I wish I could stay in a
hostel like you.’
‘Hey, would you like to change?’ I said, switching topics. ‘You said
you were cold.’
She had a change of clothes in her rucksack.
‘Where?’ she said. ‘I can’t use the bathroom here.’
‘You could change here.’
‘Ha ha, nice try, mister.’
‘I meant I could leave the room.’
‘Oh, really? Such a gentleman.’
I had learnt to ignore her sarcasm. I shrugged.
‘I’m fine in these,’ she said.
'I'm not,’ I said.
‘Why?’
‘Those shorts. They distract me.’
‘These red shorts?’
‘Well, the legs, to be precise. The legs the shorts are unable to
hide.’
Riya laughed. She took a bedsheet and covered herself.
‘Here. Better, mister? Now what? You want to study?’
Damn, I had lost my view.
‘Yeah.You’ll. rest?’
‘Yes,’ Riya said and sniggered.
‘What?’
‘Like that’s going to happen.’
‘Of course it is,’ I said and turned away from her. I sat on the chair,
switched on the table lamp and opened my sociology textbook.
Riya sat on the bed. She seemed amused and somewhat stumped at
me letting her be. A few minutes later, she lay down on the bed. ‘What
ar
e you studying?’ she said, her eyes closed.
‘Social uprisings in the early twentieth century.’
‘How are your grades?’
‘Not bad, but I’m no topper.’
I went back to my book.
‘What do you want to do after graduation?’ she said. Girls cannot
stand being ignored, that too for a textbook.
‘I’ve told you fifty times. Work in Delhi for a few years and then
go back to Dumraon.’
‘Hmm,’ she said, her eyes still closed. She sounded like the nosey
uncles who ask you questions only to dismiss your answers with a
‘hmm’.
‘Let me study, Riya. You also rest.’
I didn’t have a strategy, but I did have an intuition on how to
proceed. Don't act too interested at first; she will just launch into a
lecture.
My
curt responses puzzled her. I shut her up whenever she tried
small talk. Finally, she grew quiet.
'I'm tired,’ I said, after half an hour of silence.
'I'm sleeping. Don’t disturb,’ she said. It was her turn to act pricey.
'I also want to sleep.’
‘Stay there. I’m a patient. The patient is resting,’ she said,
suppressing a smile.
I shut my textbook. I went to the side of the bed and sat down.
‘Riya?’ I said, my voice soft.
She didn’t respond, as if asleep. I lifted the quilt covering her. Her
tiny shorts had bunched up even further. I couldn’t help but stare at
her legs. She pulled the quilt hack over her as a reflex. A girl knows
she is being stared at, even in her sleep. I lay down next to her. I took
care to have the least amount of body contact. I shared some of the
quilt and shut my eyes.
We
lay still for two minutes. She turned to her side, Her nose
poked into my right shoulder. Her hand touched my elbow. Even with
my eyes closed, I felt her warmth next to me. I turned to face her,
pretending to be asleep. Casually, I placed my left arm on her. She
didn’t protest. My left hand touched her long hair. Her nose was now
buried in my chest and I could feel her gentle breath on me. I slid my
hand down her back and moved her closer towards me.
She continued to sleep, or continued to pretend to sleep.
I placed my leg over hers, my boldest move yet. The smooth bare
skin of her leg touched mine. Electric sparks shot through me. I
resisted the urge to kiss her. I let my hand slide further down her back.
As I reached her lower back, her voice startled me.
‘Mr Jha,’ she said.
‘Yes, Miss Somani.’
‘This is not called sleeping,’
‘You can sleep.’
‘Oh, really? How do you expect me to with you all over me?’
I laughed. I brought her closer and lifted her face. I tried to kiss
her but she turned away.
‘Control yourself, Madhav,’ she said.
She tried to extricate herself. I didn’t let go.
‘Why?’ I said.
‘That is what we agreed to.’
‘But why?’
‘Just. Oh my God, I just felt your... Madhav, let me go.’
‘Riya, come on.’
‘Can you just let me go? You are hurting me.’
I let her go. She slid to the edge of the bed, away from me.
‘I want you.’
‘No.’
‘Please let me.’
‘No.’
‘You have to.’
‘What do you mean I have to?’ she said.
She sat up on the bed. She glared at me, her posture stiff.
Ho
wever, I was too consumed with my own feelings to cave in at this
point. I had waited and played the patience game for too long. I
expected her to yield to me now.
‘What is your problem?' I said.