Page 212 - The World's Best Boyfriend

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They hadn’t talked for the last hour. Aranya pretended to be asleep. She saw

Dhruv wipe his tears more than a few times.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the rear-view mirror, from Dhruv’s stoic
face as he concentrated on the road. She wanted to comfort him but how do you
comfort someone like Dhruv? Dhruv entered his neighbourhood.

The watchmen saluted him, so did the kids out for early morning football
matches.

‘This is where I live,’ said Dhruv, pointing towards a balcony on the third
floor in an old, yellow building with flaking paint. ‘I will be back. You wait
here,’ Dhruv said and walked towards the building. His strides got shorter as he
got closer to the building and then he stopped altogether, and stared at his shoes.

‘What happened?’ asked Aranya, walking up to him.
‘Do you mind?’

‘. . .’
‘Do you mind coming with me?’ asked Dhruv, almost ashamed.
Aranya nodded and held his arm. They walked up the dilapidated stairwell.
The granite beneath their feet was cracked in places, and the corners of walls had

spider webs, it looked like it had not been cleaned in ages. Dhruv rang the bell
twice. Aranya noticed Dhruv alternate between abject helplessness and anger.

‘Dhruv?’ His father—bloodshot eyes, matted hair, every bit what Aranya had
imagined drunkards to be—seemed surprised. ‘Come, come.’ Dhruv walked in
and his father almost stumbled on the shoes lined at the entrance. He was

wearing a pair of trousers without a belt and a vest riddled with holes. Dhruv
helped him just in time. The house stank of fermented beer and rotting food.
He asked them to sit on a lumpy, creaky sofa and went to the kitchen. Dhruv

sat there rubbing his hands, sweating, as if it wasn’t his house.
‘Here,’ Dhruv’s father gave them two bottles. Soda bottles filled with water.
He sat in front of them, grinning widely. His hair was sparse and his skin was

marred with little marks.
‘You need to talk to my professor. I cheated in my exam and got caught. I
might have to repeat a year if you don’t,’ said Dhruv, looking up, meeting his

father’s eyes.