You Were My Crush!..Till You Said You Love Me!

By: Durjoy Dutta & Orvana Ghai

You Were My Crush!..

Till You Said You Love Me!

Chapter o n e

Ever seen the guy who drives like a maniac in a ridiculously big car? The guy with the powerful dad?

The big house? Well, I am  that guy.

Benoy Roy.

I am not flashy, but I have a big car and a big house, and there is no hiding that. But yes, I do not look rich. I stand five feet and ten inches tall and look like someone you would miss on a busy road.

Wheatish complexion, slim, with short, neat hair—that is what my matrimonial ad would read like.

Often, I have heard people say, He does not look that rich. I do not blame them; I was never impressed by what I saw in the mirror either.

Well, it was another morning for me. I was in no hurry again. Life was awesome. I did not have to worry about the early morning lecture, shouting professors or pending assignments.

My head did not hurt even though I was sure I had got sloshed the night before, since I was on the couch and not on my bed where I should have been! I was still in the clothes I had worn the previous night to the club.

I must have passed out, I thought.

These nights of excessive drinking, blackouts and bad hangovers were becoming a routine. This is the last time I am drinking, I said to myself. I was lying. I tried to remember why I had not gone up to my bedroom and slept, but I really could not. I tried to recall the girl I had danced with the previous night, but I could not remember that clearly either. I remembered the name though. Palak. I smiled. She was pretty, and Deb had introduced me to her.

As I heated the coffee and poured it into a cup, my phone rang. It was Eshaan and he asked me the same question that he did every day. Was I going to college that day?  No, I was not! I didn’t have a hangover but I did not want to spoil that day sitting on those broken benches, beneath the creaky fans.

Moreover, three back-to-back lectures were not my thing! Just as I switched on the television, the door was flung wide open. It was the maid. I looked at her, and she smiled. She had the newspaper in her hand; she kept it on the table. Though the house was  pretty big, I lived alone and so never had much work for her to do.

‘Benoy? What  is in the sink?’ she asked, disgusted.

‘What?’ I asked as I entered the kitchen.

‘Come and see for yourself.’ She had covered her face with her pallu.

I walked up to the sink and a pungent smell hit my nose. I looked at it and it almost made me puke. It was filthy and it smelled worse than a dead rat.

‘ Damn it.’

‘Babu, you drank too much last night?’ she said in a muffled tone from behind the pallu.

‘I guess so.’

I asked her to go and shop for vegetables; I told her I would take care of it by the time she came back.

She grabbed the shopping bag and left the house as soon as possible. I stood there for a while, disgusted at what I had done. This was new. I used to black out, but I  never used to puke. The drainpipe was blocked and I thought, Why don’t they just make bigger drainpipes?

Because people are meant to puke in toilets, dumbass, a voice in my head said.

I did not waste any more time. I wrapped a handkerchief around my face and got to work with a plunger and that day’s newspaper in my hand. Fifteen  stinking minutes later, the sink sparkled and I stank.

I am never drinking again! Definitely!  I said to myself as I entered the shower.

I loved the shower area. It was the second-best place after the gym I had set up a couple of months back. It cost me … well, I do not know  how much, for my father paid for it. All I know is that I loved it.

Meanwhile, the maid was back and she had started to cook.

‘ Aunty!  A little less oil,’ I shouted out as I came down the stairs.

‘Babu, where will you get the strength? And stop drinking so much, babu. It’s not good for you,’ she shouted back.

Just as I flopped on the couch, the doorbell rang.

‘Who’s it?’ I shouted from where I was sitting. The door was being banged now. Harder.

‘ FINE! ’

‘Deb?’ I exclaimed. Debashish was my cousin, five years older than me. He had turned twenty-five just the day before, and it was his party last night. LAST. DRINKING. NIGHT. EVER.

‘Fuck you, Benoy,’ he said, and he looked pissed. ‘Where have you been? I have been calling you for the last twenty minutes. Anyway, where is Palak?’


‘Benoy? I don’t have time for this. Her mom has been calling me since the morning; she’s freaking out. Where  is she?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Deb!’

‘What? You left with her last night. Don’t you fucking  remember?’

He started looking everywhere and I followed him around; he was clearly freaking out and was out of his goddamn mind.