he full story has been posted! If you read Part I, find Part II somewhere here.Disclaimer: Three things. First, the story is fictional and fairly long.
Second,
if at any point you feel that my perverseness in writing has gone too
far, I suggest you stop. It will only get more disturbing.
Third, I have not run the story through my editor.
Enjoy!Alpha Male
When
Rajiv figured out what he wanted to be in life, he was eight years old,
weighed 50 kilos, and had recently acquired an alias by the name of
Haati. The year was 1989. The incident occurred when Shreeya, the most
adored girl in the class sat next to Pranaya, the most obnoxious boy in
the school. Reason, Pranaya was a playful boy who had his ways with the
ladies. Rajiv was obviously jealous and that jealousy led to
nail-biting, then to head-scratching, to more nail-biting and finally
to a revelation. Rajiv wanted to be the boy sitting next to Shreya, the
boy who would lead the pack, the boy girls would be dying to sit next
to—the alpha male.
‘Mommy, what do girls like?’ a disheartened Rajiv asked his mother that night.
Understanding that her obese son was facing an inferiority crisis, Roshani chuckled, ‘A cute boy like you.’
“No
they don’t. Everyone says I am fat. They all call me Haati in school
and the other day the class teacher named me Moote,’ Rajiv said with a
heavy breath.
‘That’s not true,’ Roshani tried to solace her son.
‘Yes it is and it is because you put too much rice on my plate.’
‘If you don’t want to be Mote, then don’t swallow everything you see,’ came the blunt reply from Roshani.
And
so Rajiv didn’t. He ate half his usual portion for dinner and the same
for meals the next day, and for the next month and would religiously
curb his appetite for the years to come. When Roshani realized that
Rajiv might have some hope after all, she signed Rajiv up in the Karate
club at school, which rather became a testament of the number of
bruises he could endure than a class on self-defense. The instructor,
addressed as ‘Guru,’ was a former gangster who had newly received a 2nd
dan black belt and served three months of jail time. Probably in need
of more discipline than the students he was teaching, Rajiv’s Guru made
sure that the training was no less grueling than that of Shoaling
temple. Disadvantaged by weight, Rajiv was clumsy when it came to
performing forms. His Guru carried a carefully manufactured stick that
would easily qualify for a police’s baton and every time Rajiv made
errors during forms, he would get smacks with the stick. Though most of
his classmates quit the club within few weeks Rajiv had different plans
for himself.
Because of rigorous training and lower
carbohydrates, Rajiv went from a 50 kilo eight-year-old to a 35 kilo
ten-year-old by the end of fifth grade. He looked skinny fit, was one
of the fastest boys in class and excelled at sports. Priti even
remarked that she liked the way he broke the tiles in the sports day
that year. Rajiv had a huge grin on his way home from the awards
ceremony as he wrapped a blue belt that he had won after the sparring
competition around his waist.
***************************************************************
‘You
failed in Mathematics? And the teacher said you cheated! Thuika! You
are a disgrace to my intelligence’ screamed Puskar at his son.
A
high school teacher in Mathematics, Puskar’s anger was reasonable when
Rajiv secured 35 points out of hundred in the final, of which Rajiv had
copied 15 points from Pranaya, 10 points from the girl next to him, and
10 points on his own. The class teacher was very generous and allowed
Rajiv to advance to the next grade. Rajiv forgot the resounding slap in
the cheek from the irate father but not the first day of sixth grade
when Pranaya was appointed the Class Captain.
Pranaya had
secured first position in the class five finals and thus the rightful
title of the Class Captain in class six, toppling the girl who had
never been second and never stopped wiping her nose with the same
handkerchief since kindergarten. In the months that followed, Pranaya
not only managed to be the class teacher’s pet but learned to abuse the
power vested upon him. There were explicit rules laid out such as
speaking only in English in the school ground and tacit ones that had
to do with promptly following Pranaya’s order or be prepared to face
belts, rulers, sticks, punches, or any form of punishment Pranaya was
in the mood for. Since Pranaya was the teacher’s pet, the students
would never dare to complain, and bitterly obliged to the Nazi rule
laid out before them.
On the other hand, Pranaya was less
strict to the girls, becoming very popular with them. Unknown to Rajiv,
in the name of comparing homework answers, helping girls with
mathematics, and keeping the class in control, Pranaya had become the
alpha male. When a girl gave a card to Pranaya and shared her lunch
during recess on February 14, 1993, Rajiv’s pupil dilated for the
second time.
In the meantime, Puskar took a deliberate effort
to help his son with school. He would meticulously look into Rajiv’s
assignments, quiz his son twice a month and once before the term exams.
It was apparent that Rajiv wasn’t devoid of intelligence, but rather
his laziness had taken a toll on his grades. With an equally Nazi-like
environment at home, Rajiv finished ranking 7th in the class of 25 at
the end of sixth grade. Not only Puskar but Rajiv had also recognized
his own potential. Around the same time, Rajiv’s Karate Guru was sent
to prison for the second time. Rumor had it that he was in a scuffle
with some policemen. The school had enough complains about the Guru
from the parents and didn’t bother to hire another one. Consequently,
Rajiv’s training was put at a halt.
************************************************************************
With
the firm handshake came ‘Congratulations,’ to be followed by the bow to
the principal. Rajiv ranked first in 7th Grade finals and bagged the
rightful appointment of the Class Captain. Rajiv had won 5 medals from
the sports competition and two with academic achievement, one being the
‘The student who has significantly improved his/her standings.’
Carrying
a smug, Rajiv applied the hair oil, carefully combing to mark the
hairline, donning the ironed blue shirt and pants, the new tie he had
bought, and dress shoes Puskar gifted his son. The advent of eighth
grade marked Pranaya’s downfall as the alpha male of the class and
Rajiv’s ascendancy to the role. Smart, handsome, talented, girls began
to adore him while the guys envied his status. Nonetheless, Rajiv
wasn’t a tyrant like Pranaya and got along with everyone, becoming the
teacher’s pet and even garnering three cards on that year’s Valentine’s
Day. One of them was from Shreeya. Rajiv replied the next day with a
card. He even wrote a cheesy poem in it. Shreeya thought it was sweet
and gave him a smile before leaving school that day.
Telephone
had recently been introduced to the middle-class mass in the Valley. A
necessity by today’s standard, it was a luxury Rajiv and Shreeya both
indulged in. They talked on the phone most nights about school,
teachers, the usual gossip of the day, and imitating Bollywood flicks
always hung up with an ‘I love you.’ Rajiv surely hadn’t understood the
concept of love yet.
‘Decadence’ was the concept Rajiv would
soon begin to comprehend. It was a trip to Sundarijal with his buddies
during ninth grade when Rajiv smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol for
the first time. With eyes closed, he chugged two mugs of the local
liquor made from rice, spilling a third on the table and a quarter on
his shirt. The smell reeked a good few yards away. A Brahmin who never
touched alcohol, Puskar, welcomed his son in the house with two slaps
on the face and a pound on the back that would have been devastating
had Roshani not interfered.
The slap did little to stop Rajiv
from drinking and smoking again. Pretending to work on a science
project for the school fair, he would stay at his friend’s house when
their parents were away and drink the night away. That was an
occasional hiatus from the academics, usually once every two months. A
growing adolescent, it was during those sleepovers Rajiv learned a
great deal about sex, booze and rock music. They watched western porn
flicks, head banged to Metallica’s Enter Sandman, laughed over dirty
jokes and learned to curse. And curse he did, though not understanding
the gravity of the words. It made him feel accepted in the circle of
boys and not long after, he had become a master of jokes, cracking
dirty jokes during recess in groups while the guys listened
attentively.
The next slap from Puskar came when Rajiv called
Loke, their housekeeper an alchi muji for not thoroughly cleaning the
mango stains on his shirt. Puskar was reading his Saturday Gorkhapatra
and caught Rajiv yelling at the obedient housekeeper who plainly
stammered hus during the whole tirade. Roshani and Puskar were shocked,
and Rajiv even more the next day when a friend told him the word refers
to a woman’s pubic hair.
Things had been shaky between Rajiv
and his girlfriend. Shreeya opposed Rajiv’s occasional smoking and his
friends who were pressuring Rajiv to lose his virginity. With
testosterone off the roof, Rajiv wanted sex and Shreeya wouldn’t let
him touch anywhere below the neck. Their relationship ended on 1998,
while Rajiv was waiting for the SLC results. Ironically, Rajiv did
extremely well in his SLCs, securing distinction and a 50 percent
scholarship to a private plus-two institution in the Valley.
**********************************************************************
‘Have
you smoked Ganja?’ asked Anil, as he took out the tobacco from the
cigarette and carefully mixed it with the Marijuana. Anil was Rajiv’s
eleventh grade friend and when school was canceled that day, the duo,
along with two more guys decided to go to Godawari. That was the first
time Rajiv smoked pot. While his friends told him nobody takes a trip
on their first try, Rajiv proved them otherwise. He was flying, and
flying high. He started laughing and talking about having the hots for
Manisha, the hottest girl in the class according to general consensus.
Rajiv loved the feeling of being loosened up after smoking that day. He
remembers saying that it was even better than getting drunk.
He
enjoyed the sedative feeling and would soon bunk from school to smoke
at Godawari. They called it their ‘junction,’ where the four friends
would meet every Friday at two to sit in the spring grass to burn more
grass, enjoying the greenery. After a good hit, their conversation
usually revolved around school, girls, Manisha, and the size of her
breasts. Before heading for home, Rajiv would take a gum, or polo to
hide the smell of weed reeking from his mouth. One night Roshani
suspected something when her son came in late, with bloodshot eyes and
went straight to bed without having dinner. When Puskar asked why his
son wasn’t eating dinner, Roshani made up a story about fever and
feeding Rajiv ‘jaulo.’
Rajiv didn’t stop there. His
visits to Godawari became more frequent, up to two times a week, and
soon enough Anil introduced the group to Cabin Restaurants. Another
name for brothels, these were legal restaurants containing wooden
cubicles with promiscuous waitresses insisting any guest to order the
highly overpriced beer and food. In exchange, the guests would enjoy
what Rajiv dubbed the three Fs—flirt, fondle and f**k. He never made it
to the last F. But the first two F he did. The first time it was with
Reenu, and after that the name didn’t matter. They were all the same to
him, some willing, others hesitant, with the rest in between. He was
still a virgin.
That would change when Anil took the group to a
massage parlor in Thamel. It was a rainy day, and they were all tipsy
and that’s where Rajiv met Sweta. Dressed to kill, Sweta was not only
gorgeous compared to the other prostitutes but she was a screamer. When
he penetrated her, ‘Aiya, Tapai ko ta katro thulo rahecha’ was the
painful remark. Rajiv couldn’t decipher whether she was telling the
truth or exaggerating. Nonetheless, he was happy. So, come he did and
back he came. Every week, for the next few months.
He soon
learned Sweta was from Rautahut, and had joined the bandwagon of
villagers heading towards Kathmandu in search of work after the Maoist
insurgency started recruiting villagers and made life miserable at
home. Unable to work in a factory with meager wage, she joined a Cabin
Restaurant in Baneshwor. When police raided the Cabin Restaurant where
she worked, she decided to join a massage parlor in Thamel. There she
made enough to take care of herself and her eight-year-old boy and
three-year-old girl. Her husband was one of the early recruits in the
Maoist’s People’s Army. With the increasing visits, Rajiv and Sweta
started bonding and for the first time in life Rajiv actually fell for
a girl.
***********************************************************************
Puskar’s
rage knew no bound when he found out that his son was paying to sleep
with a prostitute cum girlfriend who also happened to be a mother of
two. It wasn’t just slaps this time, but belts, punches and kicks that
followed as Roshani watched with tearful eyes from the corner. She
didn’t stop her husband this time and Puskar didn’t stop for a long
time. Finally Puskar pleaded his son to get rid of these habits—the
Marijuana, the brothel, and hanging out with Anil and his group of
friends. Seeing both parents with teary eyes something triggered
Rajiv’s conscience that evening. That night he did a lot of
soul-searching and realized not only was he no longer an alpha male but
he had turned into something hideous. He never went back to the massage
parlor again. Anil later told Rajiv that Sweta had gone back to
Rautahaut for good. That evening before dinner, Roshani found Rajiv
bleeding in his room with left wrist cut, and Sweta name inscribed in
it. Two weeks later, and two months before the 11th grade finals, Rajiv
was diagnosed with unipolar depression.
The doctor put Rajiv on
some kind of a serotonin uptake inhibitor pills. A hesitant Roshani
asked the psychologist whether it was really necessary to take the
antidepressant drugs. The doctor assured that it would help Rajiv and
Roshani made sure he took them as directed. Puskar even hired a tutor
for his son before the finals and Rajiv labored daily, making up for
the loss during the year. When the grades came out in the middle of
12th grade, Rajiv had barely passed in three of the five subjects.
Paradoxically, he did very well in Physics and scored the highest in
Mathematics from the whole school. Next day Manisha came up to him to
ask if he could solve a calculus problem.
Soon enough, Manisha
and Rajiv had everyone’s green eyes. Those who envied labeled Rajiv a
Psycho Gadazi but Manisha knew better and encouraged Rajiv to be
himself once again. She found him smart, attractive and caring. They
studied together, they hung out with friends together, took part in
clubs together, and occasionally they would kiss. Manisha was the
girlfriend that Rajiv had at the right time in his life. With the
advent of the end of high school, Manisha and Rajiv’s relationship was
going stronger than ever and so were Rajiv’s academics. Manisha wanted
to study medicine in the Institute of Medicine (IOM) at Maharajgunj and
Rajiv would study engineering in the Institute of Engineering at
Pulchowk, that is if everything went as planned.
****************************************************************************
The
slap didn’t physically hurt but the emotional trauma left both
estranged. It was in Rajiv’s room as they were kissing when Rajiv tried
to touch Manisha’s breasts. She hesitantly complied, but when Rajiv
made the foolhardy attempt to reach out for third base, she grabbed his
hand to stop and he didn’t, the slap followed. She got up and left.
Rajiv stayed still, with a wet finger, unable to fathom what had just
occurred.
That was the first time Rajiv was hurt in their
relationship. She called to talk about it, while he would not hear
anything unless she apologized. Without really communicating they
argued on the phone, which only made things worse. During one of the
phone confrontations, Rajiv went on a rage and called Manisha a bhalu
(whore). He knew he had put the last straw that broke the camel’s back.
He was devastated. Manisha was as well, but she would never forgive him
and he knew better. Three months later, Manisha received admission to
IOM while Rajiv did not appear for the exams at Pulchowk that year. Two
months later, he decided to move on.
That was when a neighbor
came to Rajiv’s house with a box of ‘buniyako laddu,’ flaunting that
his son was going to US on a full scholarship. Rajiv listened very
attentively and then scrapping the engineering plan at pulchowk, went
to the book store near Ghantaghar to buy a couple of hefty SAT books
and a new dictionary. He had scored a high first division in the 12th
grade exams and determined to apply abroad, cooped up in his room for
months to study for the SATs, scoring 95 percentile in Verbal and 98 in
Math. Rajiv crafted a semi-plausible essay about dealing with
depression on a third world country and managed to get great
recommendations from the Math and Physics teachers.
Nothing
made Puskar and Roshani happier than when Rajiv received a FED-EX
package from Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. It was a
full scholarship. Predictably, the visa interview was a joke. Before
leaving for United States, Rajiv was taken off the anti-depressant
pills.
********************************************************************
PART II: Rajiv
landed on Chicago OHare Airport on September 5, 2000. The new
millennium had kicked in, Y2K bug was long extinct, Einstein was the
man of the century, and Rajiv was optimistic of the future. Two
sophomore students came to the airport to pick up Rajiv. One of them
was Julia, a skinny girl from Argentina whose low-rise jeans revealed
the tattoo on the lower back and the cleavage beneath that. On the ride
to Northwestern University (NU) campus, she mentioned her desire to see
mountains of Nepal while Rajiv expressed his dedication for the
Argentine soccer team.
That night Julia took Rajiv to a party in
a fraternity house. The scene was similar to any other fraternity
parties in college campuses all over the country with underage students
holding beer cans, asynchronously tapping their feet to the music,
another bunch sitting on a futon talking gibberish, a drunk couple
exchanging bodily fluids in the corner, and a group playing a game with
a table tennis ball and cups of beer.
‘What’s that?’
‘What? Beirut? It’s a beer game. You wanna play?’ Julia asked.
‘Can you teach me?’
‘Sure. Come on, let’s play then.’
She
explained the rules of Beirut, which was in short throwing ping pong
balls in cups and drinking beer off of it. Rajiv was excited. Five
games later, losing three in a row, Rajiv found himself in Amalia’s
room. He gleefully smiled when she took off her top but passed out in
the couch before she could reveal more of the cleavage under the tattoo.
International
student orientation was an experience. Rajiv had met people from more
countries in three days than in his entire life. Then came the American
students, and along with them, Rajiv’s roommate, Adrian. Adrian was a
Chicago native who had gone to a private preppy high school in the
Chicago suburbs. When Adrian moved in to the room, Rajiv was hit with a
jolt of inferiority crisis. Adrian had a cell phone, the latest Sony
Vaio laptop, a PlayStation 2 and a 21 inch TV set. Caucasian, 6’2”,
brown hair, muscular-built, Adrian wore factory-cut frayed jeans, drove
an Audi, and played Lacrosse for the NU team.
Puskar had
managed to squeeze in 5000 dollars from his savings to help Rajiv with
personal expenses. Rajiv didn’t have to pay for tuition, room and
board, and thus the money was enough for a year. Still, he signed up
for an on campus job in the library, working 15 hours a week.
To
his surprise, Adrian showed an interest to know this confused alien
from a third world country. Adrian taught Raiv that vending machines
don’t take one-cent coins, that it was not biscuits but cookies, and
that f**k is the most flexible word in the English language, with its
ability to be used as a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb.
Adrian
took a conscious effort to help Rajiv assimilate with the American
students. That was when Rajiv met the rowdiest and most undisciplined
college-goers in his life. He noticed that most of the upper-middle
class Americans didn’t just have a house with swimming pool and a BMW
in common. The girls had died their hair some shade of blonde, their
pale body disguised with some shade of tan, which in turn was covered
with some company that made Velour tracksuits, and when they conversed,
they frequently went ‘ohh my gooddd,’ to be followed by ‘I knowww,’ and
‘that’s so hotttt.’ The guys were not much different, talking about
American football, sports cars, hooking up with fresh meat, another
name for freshmen girls, and getting shitfaced—a term Rajiv later found
out meant getting extremely drunk and had nothing to do with feces or
face.
************************************************************
Rajiv
first heard the term Alpha Male in his sociology class. Asleep on most
days during 8 am lectures, Rajiv was full awake when the Professor
brought up the topic of class and status in the American culture. He
then went to talk about the alpha male.
‘…Alpha male is a term
used to describe the most selective male to mate for a female in a
group of animals. Nowadays it describes the successful man in human
society. …..The selection of an alpha male in animals constitutes
strength, health, power while, as you can imagine, in humans they have
become more subtle. For today’s man the criteria have become, but not
limited to abundance of money, power, prestige, intelligence, physical
features, and personality…. The alpha male of today drives the latest
Benz, wears designer clothes, infuses confidence while exuding
sexuality, and leads the betas and omegas in the survival of the
fittest. The leading man among the men, the alpha is at the pinnacle of
the pecking order, and thus chooses any female he desires…Depending on
the crowd, the alpha male also varies. In concerts, he is the anorexic
rock star with tattos, in the basketball playoffs, the top scoring NBA
player with cheering fans, in the annual playboy party, the Hugh Hefner
with playmates…’
As he listened, Rajiv came to realize the
bitter reality that he was a no one here — he was the omega of
Northwestern. He told Adrian about the lecture.
‘Dude I don’t
know what this Alpha male thing you are talking about. But let me tell
you what gets you respect in college. Yeah, yeah there is the academics
and discovering yourself crap. But guys are here for two reasons: one
to make mistakes; second to have fun. The more mistakes you can make
and get away with and the more fun you can have, the greater respect
you gain.’
‘What kind of fun?’ asked Rajiv.
‘ Fun means drinking, partying hard, and nailing chicks. That’s the naked truth. Welcome to college.’
College
wasn’t just about academics. It was about fun and making mistakes.
Rajiv wanted to make mistakes. That night Rajiv was wakened up by a
girl moaning in Adrian’s bed. He went to bed, with a pillow over his
head. Next day Rajiv expressed his desire to have fun.
‘Now we are talking,’ Adrian replied.
They went to a fraternity dance party one Friday night.
‘Can you dance?’ Adrian asked.
‘Not really.’
‘Then, drink this.’
It
was bud light. Two hours later Rajiv was pressing against a chubby
Caucasian girl who seemed too drunk for her own good. Even for a tipsy
Rajiv the dancing was too perverse to continue. Surprisingly, the girl
managed to push her beer-reeking tongue inside Rajiv’s mouth before her
embarrassed friends forcefully dragged her away. Adrian saw that and
smiled in approval. Rajiv was beginning to understand the game. Friday
night came next week. Rajiv was getting drunk and dancing with more
Caucasian 18-year-olds. He wasn’t able to bring one to this room
though. He blamed it on his poor dancing skills and signed up for a
dance class on campus. There was always a girl moaning in Adrian’s bed
on Friday nights. Rajiv bought a pair of ear plugs.
*******************************************************
The
fall quarter ended and Rajiv had a 3.8 GPA but hadn’t had sex in
America. Rajiv went with Adrian to a club in downtown Chicago in
December 31, 2000. The club wasn’t packed and Adrian was already busy
with a girl in the bar. Rajiv ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. He drank
two glasses in 10 minutes. There was a guy taking the spotlight with
hip-hop moves and a mid-20s woman curiously watching the dance floor.
Rajiv went up to the woman.
‘So, how important do you think it is for a guy to dance like that?’ Rajiv asked the girl with some courage.
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you show me how good you are?’ she replied as she embraced his shoulder.
‘I am Raj.’
‘Razz? Emily.’
It
was awkward, she couldn’t dance and Rajiv felt sorry as she clung onto
his shoulders and moved her hips so out of beat that Rajiv would have
made an excuse and left did she not have a southern accent that went
very well with her attractive body. They danced for two whole songs.
She was an epitome of blonde, blue-eyed country girl and Rajiv was
drunk. They took tequila shots together. Rajiv had two more Long
Island.
‘Hey you wanna get out of here?’
*************************************************************
Rajiv
woke up at 8 am. When he came out of the bathroom, there was a boy,
probably eight years old, eating cheerios in the dining table.
‘Razz, this is Marvin, my son.’
He wouldn’t do this again, at least not in college. Rajiv made an excuse about a brunch appointment and left.
Winter
quarter began. The Dot-com bubble had racked up too much money and
Rajiv was tempted. He declared Computer Science as his major, with a
Math minor. Winter quarter looked more promising. Adrian was his mentor
and Rajiv was learning to talk with the ladies. Rajiv began going to
the gym when Ardian explained not only will he be attractive but it
will increase his libido. Raiv started going out on Saturday nights.
One such night, Rajiv got lucky with an 18-year-old brunette. The luck
followed every Saturday night that quarter and the next. Rajiv was
climbing up the hierarchical ladder. Adrian bought a pair of ear-plugs.
It was the summer of 2001. Rajiv worked full-time on a research
regarding Ramsey Theory with a Math Professor. He also tutored AP
Calculus to a high school kid. The campus was dead in the summer
compared to the academic year. Bored out of his mind, one fine day
Rajiv went to a Nepali gathering in Chicago. That’s when Rajiv met
Ajita, a sophomore at Purdue, a university three hours south of
Chicago. Ajita wasn’t the most attractive of girls he had been with,
but she was Nepali. The conservation that started out with hajur,
slided to tapai, then to timi, to finally Rajiv managing to get Ajita’s
number. Two weeks later, the phone rang.
‘Hello. Ajita, ke cha?’
Rajiv
and Ajita went to a Nepali Restaurant in Evanston. The conversation was
random, with talks about high school, Bollywood movies, being student
in US, and the longing for Nepal and home-cooked food. Ajita was a
Biology major at Purdue and a year older than Rajiv. The conversation
veered into academics. Rajiv listened as she expressed the intricacies
of drug design, Ajita’s field of interest. Ajita listened as Rajiv
talked about pigeonhole principle in Ramsey theory. He went to explain
how some systems that seem to exhibit entropy, actually tend to have
patterns. When she started showing the deer-in-headlights look, Rajiv
summed up the theory as trying to find order in chaos. They parted,
both wanting to meet again.
Towards the end of summer, Rajiv’s
grandfather died of cancer. Rajiv called Ajita. She came to see him in
his dorm. Rajiv was grieving, Ajita’s eyes watered, and she did not
resist; they ended up making out. They both knew it would be hard to
sustain a long distance relationship. When Rajiv told her that they
shouldn’t jump into a relationship right away, she resisted the reflex
action to smack his face. He was still grieving and she was ready to
give him some time to think it through.
Sophomore year began.
Rajiv joined a fraternity known for outrageous parties on campus. Ajita
wasn’t happy but Rajiv cared less. She called once a week to check up
on him and they would talk but nothing further. She had developed
feelings for a guy who became insensitive by the day, rarely called her
back and made every attempt to make him look masculine. She wasn’t sure
whether it was the way he kissed her that first time or the fact that
she was chasing after a guy she couldn’t have that made her want Rajiv
even more.
************************************************************
The
black eye was the first for Rajiv in the United States. While drunk he
asked Melisa, a sorority girl from his Art History class, for a dance
and when she politely refused, he insisted, grabbing her hand. Melisa’s
6’2” footballer boyfriend tackled Rajiv a good 10 feet. The punch
followed. Rajiv’s brothers from the fraternity stopped the footballer
before the fight got nasty. Everyone put the blame on Rajiv and he was
assigned 25 more hours of community service by the fraternity. He
called up Ajita. She came the following Saturday.
‘Rajiv,
this is not you. This life style you are living, with these white frat
guys who drink all night and sleep with even more drunk white
Barbie-like girls dressed in skimpy clothes, it’s not you. I don’t know
what you are trying to become. I told you it was a bad idea. I am
sorry. You do not need to drink every weekend or play American football
to feel accepted.’
Suffering from a headache due to the
hangover, Rajiv began sobbing when Ajita made him see the grim reality.
He complained about school, pressure on drinking, and living up to the
brothers in the frat. Ajita still had feelings for that boy who was
passionate about explaining Ramsey theory. They went out for dinner and
Rajiv did not drink. They ended up sleeping together.
Four
weeks later, summer came. Rajiv landed an internship at a software
company while Ajita interned in a pharmaceutical company, both in
Chicago. They lived close by in the city. Unlike the rest of 9 months,
the city was lively in the summer. They explored more of Chicago, and
Rajiv explained more of Ramsey theory while Ajita explained more about
drug-design. She enjoyed his vegetable curry while he relished her
chiken briyani. He was happy once again to converse with someone in
Nepali and she was relieved that he was showing signs of progress.
‘He looks like a keeper,’ a friend from Purdue commented to Ajita after dinner one summer night.
*******************************************************************
Junior
year went at light speed. Rajiv went home during winter. Things had
changed. When Rajiv said he was from America, everyone stared at him
for a good few seconds. His old neighborhood friends took him to disco
bars in the Valley. He had the money, the confidence, the intelligence,
and the looks; suddenly Rajiv was on the top of the pecking order. He
didn’t really have to flirt with other girls, instead they came up to
him. The limelight was too bright. He came back to the United States
with the same confidence. He bought a BMW, taking out a huge loan on
his credit card. Ajita was against the idea, but then again she
couldn’t change his mind. She was busy with her thesis in her final
year and Rajiv was preoccupied with junior year academic fever. One
Friday night, Melisa came to the Frat house. She had broken it off with
her footballer boyfriend. She was grieving, and went to Rajiv’s room.
Rajiv shared the pain. Conscience-stricken, Rajiv called Ajita two days
later.
‘I made a terrible mistake.’
‘What?’
Silence.
‘Did you sleep with anyone?’
Silence. Ajita started sobbing.
‘Just tell me if you slept with anyone or not?’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘It’s a fu****g yes or no.’
‘Yes.’
‘Who?’
‘Melissa.’
‘You are a pig.’
She
hung up the phone. Summer started. Rajiv tried to win her back. She
didn’t answer his calls, nor replied his emails. Ajita was now working
in a company in Chicago. Tragedy struck. Her grandmother succumbed to
cancer that summer. She felt alone and emailed Rajiv to come over. She
was grieving. He grieved with her. They ended up sleeping together.
Spooning in bed, Rajiv promised he would never cheat on her, blaming it
on his mental health. He told her about the depression earlier in his
life and she empathized. He agreed to visit a shrink, and she agreed to
be together. Once hailed as the wonder drug of the 90s, Prozac was the
drug the doctor prescribed for Rajiv.
***********************************************************************
Senior
year came with a lot of promises. Rajiv moved out of the fraternity and
lived off campus. Ajita also got an apartment nearby. Their
relationship was going strong. Rajiv was slowly changing, the drugs
helped. Every now and then he drank but Ajita didn’t mind. He was one
of the best players in Beirut in the Frat House and partied every now
and then. Rajiv landed a job in an IT company in Chicago where he had
done a co-op. Rajiv graduated from NU in May and in the June of 2004,
Rajiv and Ajita engaged. They were both from the same caste and their
parents couldn’t be happier. They would marry in Nepal a year later.
*********************************************************************
A
friend at work told Ajita that she had seen Rajiv fooling with a girl
in a bar. Ajita was furious. She went home, cried alone for a few
hours. When Rajiv came back, she asked him about the girl in a bar.
Rajiv confessed, repeatedly mentioning it meant nothing and was a
fraternity thing. Tears, snot, books, tissues, phone, everything was
flying around as Rajiv kept quiet. Ajita left. Rajiv called her
numerous times. She wouldn’t pick up or let him come in her apartment.
Ajita called Rajiv two weeks later.
‘It’s over and I want to tell you something before we move on.’
‘You know that I am very sorry.’
‘Shut up,’ she interrupted.
‘I
thought you would change. But you are like those criminals committing
crimes after getting out of prison. Shoot, what’s the word?’
‘Recidivism.’
‘Yes,
you are a recidivist, a f**king recidivist. Do you remember that time
we met in the Nepali restaurant and you told me about Ramsey theory?’
‘Yes. What does that have to do with anything?’
‘You told me how the theory is about finding order in chaos.’
‘Yeah something like that.’
‘
That’s what you need to do Rajiv. Your life is so full of shit and you
are completely lost. Find yourself. Find who you are. Don’t do
everything on an impulse. You do not have to sleep with every dumb
blonde to prove your masculinity. Neither do you need to chug beer
faster than any guy in the fraternity or beat them in Beirut. I don’t
even understand why you bought a BMW last year by taking out
unnecessary loans. By trying to become some sort of stud, you are
crashing your life. You are lost and I can’t help you find yourself.’
Silence.
‘I’ve
had enough. I got a job in New York. I had decided of rejecting the
offer. But not now. Not after the hell you have made me go through. I
never stopped believing in you. I thought you would change. Anyways, I
am leaving next week. Good luck.’
She hung up.
Her voice was very emphatic. Realizing she wouldn’t return, Rajiv cleaned up his room. He grieved, alone.
*************************************************************
The
year was 2005. Rajiv had slept with three women since the fight, two
were coworkers from office. Both of them ended up cheating on him. He
was tired of picking girls in the bar. Instead, Rajiv found things to
keep himself preoccupied. He took a Karate class in a club, learned
skiing in the winter, and volunteered at the Chicagoland Nepali Pariwar
to help organize events. Despite his efforts, he did not meet another
Ajita. On October, He received an email from Manisha, his high school
girlfriend.
‘Hello Rajiv, Guess what? I am in Chicago. I am
doing a residency in the University of Chicago hospital. I heard you
are also here. Call me. Below is my number.’
They met for dinner
in Gaylord, an Indian restaurant in Chicago downtown. Manisha talked
about her first time cutting up a dead corpse while Rajiv talked about
Ramsey theory. She did not understand, and he did not simplify. Then,
they took an evening walk in the beach. The fall wind was getting
strong.
‘I heard about your engagement. I am sorry.’
‘Yeah.’
‘So, how about you? Any guy in your life?’
‘Nooooo. Noo. Haha. Noo.’
‘Haha.’
‘So Rajiv, what exactly are you doing these days?’
‘I am trying to find order in chaos,’ Rajiv smiled, politely.
A gust of wind roared over the Windy City. Along with that, the first snow of October started covering the ground.
The End.
P.S. Sorry for deleting everyone's previous comments. I tried to upload the story so it wouldn't be in the middle of the thread and there was some error while posting. So I deleted my first post, for reasons I do not understand. Thus to get the story to be on the top, I had to delete quite a few comments. But I still appreciate your feedback.
Last edited: 11-Aug-08 02:29 PM
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Rock on!
