Half Girlfriend

She reached into the car and handed me the evil red box once
again, with the cards and the chocolates. I somehow managed to hold
everything along with the biscuit packets.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I said. I wondered where the nearest dustbin was.
‘Take care then,’ she said and came forward for a basic goodbye
hug.
I stepped back. I didn’t want any more fake hugs.
She understood my hesitation and withdrew with grace. She smiled
at me one last time and slid into her car. The BMW slipped away with
its silent elegance, as if nothing had happened.
The car took a left turn from Hindu College and was soon out of
sight. I sat down on the road. The red box and its contents lay around
me, almost like hardened blood.
I cried. The desolate campus road meant nobody could see me. I
let it all flow out. Months of pain condensed into tears. A car passed
by. I probably looked like a Delhi beggar, complete with biscuit
packets around me.
After a while, I collected everything from the road and stood up. I
walked up to the dustbin outside the main gate of the college. I
removed the chocolates and biscuits and stuffed them in my pocket. I
threw away everything else.
Even though I was in pain, I remembered the golden rule: if you
live in a hostel, never throw away food.