The Meddling Mendicant

I am the kind the jumped from one relationship to the next without ending the previous one first and giving myself a breather. Does that make me needy? Perhaps. Does that mean I cannot live life without a partner? No. It just means that I fell in love or lust, as the case may be at that point, before I was finished in the previous relationship. And rather than stress myself and my time with two simultaneous relationships, I chose to end the one that had served its cosmic purpose. Because, honestly, most relationships come with an expiration date. And while it might be painful to get out of one, or booted out of one, sooner or later both parties realise that that was as far as they could have gone.

So when I was with my first serious boyfriend at 18, I slaked my lust with an old flame from school. After a super-exciting make-out session and endless conversations over phone, I was asked if I wanted to be with him. I would have said yes but I took my time over it to see if the bastard meant it. Good thing I did. Because the next thing I knew was his girlfriend (yes, girlfriend, which was not me) went through great lengths to get my number and ask me why he had changed. Why he wasn’t as loving and as communicative as he used to be. Why she asked me I will never know. I only hope she didn’t see us making out in a very public place. When I diplomatically said I had no clue. She said she was planning to run away with him, and her mother had threatened suicide if she didn’t end it.

It was just a fraction of second but in that sliver of time I knew that I would rather save an unknown girl pain and embarrassment and be risked called a meddler than keeping quiet after I shot off a foul-mouthed email to the Bastard. And since then, if I was involved in what later became a sticky situation I called a spade a spade. Whether it was the man standing next to me feeling up an obviously uncomfortable girl’s butt (I hit him) or it was a girl going behind her husband’s back using my name to cheat on him. I didn’t go outright and tell the poor man. But when I got 13 calls at 1 a.m. and was asked to truck all the way down to Versova from Worli to see if the wife was okay because she hadn't answered any of his calls after 10, I had had enough. Happily, both of them now lead happy lives in two different cities.

After that was a string of meaningful relationships where I enjoyed song, sea, smokes, seduction, food and penury. All intermingling with each other because I would always be in a relationship before I got into another. I liked that and a couple of times the men knew how it was and didn’t have issues. Were they getting a quick lay? No. So I can never explain why all those men were kind to me despite knowing I’d be flying the coop soon.

I just hope I didn’t hurt them more than it was necessary.