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from last night and divide it in the mess. We’d go to class together,
    and if Kanyashree was in a good mood, she’d switch places with Ananya for a
    day. Otherwise, we’d take our original seats and stare at each other through
    class. The five Mohits were quite amused at first, but later adjusted quite well and turned to check us out only when the lecture got boring. In fact, her moving in
    with me created a mini scandal. Like it always happens, I earned the tag of a stud.
    And she earned tags ranging from stupidly-in-love to slut. But it didn’t matter to
    her as maybe she was stupidly in love. Every day in class, she would pass me a
    note.

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    ‘I miss you. Can’t wait to cuddle with you after class,’ it said, and it came to me via Ankur, Bipin, Bhupin, ten other students and Kanyashree. We lived with each
    other, yet she missed me in class from six rows away.
    ‘Stop sending such notes in class. People will open them,’ I warned.
    ‘You are no fun,’ she replied with several sad smiles. Bipin smiled as he
    passed the note. OK, so someone had entertainment in class.

    ‘You are a whisker away from being in the top ten. One more A in the statistics
    final exam and you are there,’ she said one night three months after she had
    moved in with me.
    ‘I can’t believe I’m studying so much. In IIT, all we’d do is chat all night.’ I switched off the lights.
    ‘We could chat all night,’ she said as we tucked under the quilt together.
    ‘About what? And why? We are with each other all the time. Why sacrifice
    sleep?’
    ‘Still, we could talk. Future plans and stuff.’
    The word ‘future’ and females is a dangerous combination. Still, in business
    school future could merely mean placement. ‘We’ve good grades. You’ll easily
    get HLL. It is the best marketing job, right? And I’ll go for WPM.’
    ‘WPM?’
    ‘Whoever pays more, so I can save as much money as fast as possible,’ I
    grinned.
    ‘You still serious about becoming a writer, right?’ She ran her fingers through my hair.
    ‘Yes but I’m still wondering what I’d write about,’ I yawned.

    DX @ www.desibbrg.com

    ‘About anything. Like that girlfriend of yours.’
    ‘Ananya, we had a pact. We will not talk about my ex-girlfriend again.’
    ‘Sorry, sorry. You said you had a deal with the Prof for grades, so I thought
    maybe it will make an interesting story.’
    ‘Good night, my strategist.’ I kissed her and lay down.
    ‘I love you,’ she said.
    ‘Mean it?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘How come you said it now?’
    ‘I think about it a lot. I only articulated it now. Good night,’ she said.

    One-and –a-half years later

    ‘Tell me your thoughts. Don’t you like to talk after making love?’
    Actually, I prefer to look at the fan above. Or drift into a nap. Why do women
    want to talk all the time? We were in my room. We were snugly wrapped up on a
    cloudy, winder afternoon.
    ‘I love to talk,’ I said carefully. ‘Do you have something in mind?’
    ‘It’s one week to placement and I’m nervous,’ she said.
    ‘Don’t worry, every company has short-listed you. You will hit t he jackpot.’
    ‘I’m not nervous about receiving a job offer. What after that?’
    ‘After that? Finally, we will have money in the bank. No more scrimping while
    ordering in restaurants, no more front row seats in theatres, no more second-
    class train travel. College is fun, but sorry, I’ve had my share of slumming it.
    Imagine, you can shop every month!’

    DX @ www.desibbrg.com

    ‘I don’t like shopping.’
    ‘Fine, you can save the money. Or travel to exotic places.’
    Her face turned more thoughtful.
    ‘You OK?’ I asked.
    ‘Do you realize we leave campus in four weeks?’
    ‘Good riddance. No more mugging and grades, hopefully for life,’ I said.
    Her voice dropped an octave. ‘What about us?’
    ‘About us what?’ I asked with an idiotic, confused expression exclusive to men
    when they have to get