Page 64 - The World's Best Boyfriend

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Aranya had been cautious enough to stay out of Dhruv’s cross hairs. He had let

her be for now but she knew, sooner or later, he would mess with her.
Some seniors had tried to induct Dhruv into their groups, most of them rogue
seniors who assumed Dhruv would be like them—a weed-smoking, chronic-
masturbating, porn-loving, counter-strike champion, but Dhruv was yet to be

infected with the responsibilities of keeping a friendship going.
That night he was sitting at the edge of the roof of the boy’s hostel, his legs

dangling precariously from its edge. It was too calm. He hadn’t been in a fight in
days and it was getting to him. The match in the parking lot of the hostel had
ended with collar-grabbing and shouts of madarchod, madarchod.
All of a sudden Dhruv heard the door of the roof being banged open and a tall,

lanky boy stumbled out of the staircase. From the corner of his eye, Dhruv saw
him peeing off the roof, one hand raised over his head waving a peace sign.

The boy started to sing an old Hindi song, grossly out of tune. Dhruv heard
the voice coming towards him and he rolled his eyes readying himself for
another drawling conversation, another attempt at an induction into a circle of
dull men.

The boy wobbled and sat next to Dhruv. He started to talk, his voice a low
slur. ‘It’s hilarious.’

‘. . .’
‘Ask me what is hilarious.’
‘. . .’

‘To drench the world with your sperm and your piss and watch them walk by
calmly with a sense of purpose.’ He laughed.
‘Why the fuck would you do that?’

‘Why the fuck would I do what?’
‘Piss and come on people?’ asked Dhruv for the boy who stank like a
municipal dumpster was the first remotely interesting person he had met in this

otherwise dull college.
‘It’s because the world is great and it’s disgusting at the same time. Imagine
the beautiful Himalayas, c’mon imagine them, yes, that’s more like it, pine trees,

white snow, that sort of shit, nature’s marvel, beautiful enough to make you jizz