Read Online When Only Love Remains by Durjoy Datta - Free Book Online

hours of exhaustion. Avanti braces herself, her forearms strain, and her calves make their pain known. She reminds herself that she doesn’t necessarily need to talk to everyone on the flight but that invariably happens.
    Four hours later, she collapses on her bed after putting Devrat’s new songs on a loop on the speaker, hoping she would dream of him. She can’t wait for the new song to release. Shekhar calls her phone twice, but the calls go answered. She looks at the missed calls on her phone, half-sleepy, and mutters, ‘You’re an asshole.’

Eight
devrat
    Being successful doing music in India, especially Indian music, doesn’t compare to being successful in other careers. The cash flow is irregular and uncertain, the public is fickle, and the tastes in music change like the direction of the wind. Most independent musicians know this and try to do as many live shows as possible while they are still on top. People talk of musicians over-exposing themselves and eventually dying out because of it, but they are not naïve and know that people will move on eventually.
    Sumit has been trying to make Devrat understand this for a long time but hadn’t been able to crack through Devrat’s strong and stubborn skull. As a rule, poorer musicians are more uptight about ideals than the ones making money. So, do riches corrupt ideals? Or you have to be corrupt inherently to be rich?
    Devrat smokes a cigarette and watches while his friend Karishma cleans up his flat. Three months have passed since the last time he saw Karishma and Devrat is not sure whether he is happy to see her. Karishma was the root of all evil, his wingman for the night he met Arundhati.
    ‘When was the last time you talked to her?’ Devrat asks and Karishma doesn’t answer the question. She starts to separate the clothes she thinks are dirty from the clean ones and ends up with just one pile of dirty clothes.
    ‘Didn’t you just say that you’re over her? That you were in a Zen state and you really don’t care about her? And do you have a maid? Or a washing machine? What do you do for clothes?’ she asks.
    ‘Dry-clean,’ he says.
    ‘Perfect,’ she says sarcastically and gathers the clothes in a bedsheet, tying up the edges when they are all in. She leaves the room and comes back after fifteen minutes. ‘The washerwoman will come with your clothes tomorrow. I have talked to her and she will pick your clothes every Sunday from now on. Don’t miss her!’
    Devrat nods. ‘I hope you know I change my flats every three weeks.’
    Fuck you, says Karishma’s face. ‘I have no idea how you live in a mess like this? It’s horrible,’ she says and washes her hands.
    ‘You should have seen how clean the flat was when I was dating her,’ snaps back Devrat.
    ‘Oh shut up. I think you like being depressed,’ argues Karishma. ‘Adds to the whole mysterious musician shit. But let me tell you it gets boring pretty fast.’
    The flat looks quite bare now. The used utensils are in the racks, the clothes are missing, and the shoes are stacked in a clean line near the door.
    ‘Hey. I have a performance tonight at Green Frog, do you want to come?’ he asks.
    ‘Sure, I will come! But, Green Frog, that’s awesome. Going places, eh?’ she mocks. ‘Do you want to order something? I am hungry as hell. And oh! Karan says hi.’
    ‘Ask him to fuck off,’ says Devrat.
    ‘Why do you hate him so much?’
    ‘He snatched my best friend away from me. You would be here every second day earlier and look at you now. That fancy guy with an MBA degree and a tie around his neck wrested you away from me!’
    ‘Oh please,’ snaps back Karishma. ‘You were too busy with your depression to give a shit about me.’
    ‘Did you know you kind of look cute when you’re angry?’ asks Devrat.
    ‘It’s been ten years that we’ve known each other and your lines haven’t ever worked on me,’ says Karishma.
    ‘They were never meant to. If I wanted those lines to work,