Periods, Pyaar And Patriarchy

Chapter Thirty

When does love end?

Does it end when you look at him for the last time? Or when you look at him for the hundredth time, knowing that you'll see more of him. Does it end when you decide to stop messaging him, knowing that you feel a little like you cannot breathe at the thoughts of not having those silly lame jokes that you keep encouraging him to make? Or does it end when he sends one of those jokes again, and you just don't find it funny anymore? Are some people doomed to love in failure? While others succeed before they even begin?

Shweta and Vaibhav would never really be able to pin it to the moment when it ended. Like they could with the beginning. The chemistry had been so undeniably obvious that it would've hurt the Gods if they'd decided not to go ahead with each other. But chemistry isn't enough to cover geographical barriers and that's not just because one comes under PCMB in 12th grade and the other in humanities.

When Shweta reached out to Vaibhav, after she was back home- there was one thing that was very obvious about her. She was grateful for the four beautiful years that she'd had with him- very grateful to have known a love like that. And been cherished by someone who had seen her as well as Vaibhav did. And along with her gratefulness, there was a silent determination. As beautiful as the four years had been, four years was all that it would remain.

Vaibhav only ever reasoned with her once. Towards the very end, when both their emotions were running so high- and they were falling apart so obviously. At times, it felt like witnessing a train wreck in slow motion, the dying of a star. At times, it was all they could do to avert their gazes and not look at all the possibilities of what they could have been. There is nothing in life that makes a person as better as the endless fantasizing of impossible possibilities- because it makes you feel like you've been cheated of your dream life.

When Vaibhav came to meet her, after the weeks of silence- it was almost like old times again. They had so much to talk about and were so afraid that they wouldn't be able to say all of what they wanted to.

He'd walked in, jet black hair against his earthen pot brown eyes, while she'd been waiting for him at the restaurant. Fashionably late as always, his hands were still calloused from strumming the guitar. Though lately, he'd been filling in more forms than he'd ever filled in his life.

"You're late." Shweta had remarked, smiling at him. There weren't really all that many hard feelings for him now.

"No," He scrunched his nose, "I'm Vaibhav."

"Shut up." Shweta had laughed, "And sit down."

Pulling a seat next to her, he'd laughed as well. Taking his arm around her, intertwining his fingers with hers, he kissed her on the temple. She settled against him, and he heard a soft satisfied sigh. This time around, he didn't really wait to tiptoe into the conversation.

"So, what now?" He had said, very bluntly.

"What now, indeed." Shweta had replied, inhaling the smell of his cologne. Why was it so comforting to be around him?

"What do you think we should do? About us, I mean." Vaibhav had asked, his thumb gently tracing the skin of her hand.

"I don't know." Shweta had said, knowing full well what she had to say but not wanting to. She lets herself pause for a bit and then continues, "I love you."

"I know." Vaibhav had said, looking at the table very intensely; willing his tears not to rise. Somehow, it had been very easy for him to sense the 'but' following the sentence. "I love you too. But?" He asks.

"But." Shweta sighs, "I don't think we'll survive Australia."

"If you decide you're not going to survive it, you won't." Vaibhav had said, matter-of-factly.