Page 103 - Till the Last Breath . . .

Arman hugged her and she lost herself in his arms. ‘You will be okay,’ he

muttered. He jerked his hands away as he saw Zarah walk into the room. ‘I
will see you later,’ he said and left the room abruptly.

Pihu was smiling as she stared at the ceiling. She could still feel his hands

around her. Slowly, she closed her eyes and wished she could stay there for
ever. Her daydreams knew no bounds that day. Her mom was sleeping

scrunched on the tiny bed and Pihu didn’t want to wake her up. Her dad was
at home. Venugopal cut her calls and she guessed he must be busy peering

down cancer-ridden lungs or rotten pituitary glands. In the past few months,
Venugopal and Pihu had spent hours talking to each other about her

symptoms, his crushes, her fears and it always felt like they would be back
together, on the last seat of the class, scribbling notes together, nudging
each other whenever the class would hover around penises or anything of

that sort.
She texted him.

The doctor hugged me today. I think I’m in love. Not like teenage-I-love-
you-so-I-need-you love, but eternal, true, dying love.
Venugopal:

You’ve got to be shitting me. I thought I was your eternal love. We would
be a perfect example for racist bastards.

She laughed and remembered the times they had placed their hands
together and compared her pale-white complexion to his smoky black tinge.

She replied:
Aw! You will always be the one. But he’s so cute! I mean, not really. He’s

just hot. Like really hot. Like unbelievably hot. I wouldn’t think twice
checking him for hernia.
Venugopal:

Nothing beats a tall, handsome and a really dark guy. Anyway, I get it.
And stop being gross. Are you high on something?

Pihu:
No! Call me as soon as you get free. And tell me everything what you’re

doing/cutting/reading/screwing up! Miss you.