But something happened in the middle of the year. Ashawari and Robert broke up. Robert retreated into a shell, spoke very little, took to wearing shiny leather jackets and playing the guitar. Ashawari decided to go the other way. She went public with her grief: Robert was lousy in bed. He only cared about himself. She was tired of his tired face. He was this. He was that.

Bloody had always fancied Ash. She had a glowing complexion, long black hair and shapely legs: she was right up Bloody’s alley. One morning, under the banyan tree where the cool people hung out, Bloody and Ashawari fell madly in love.

This was big news on the campus. The college rag, which regularly published chick and stud charts, sat up and took notice. Bloody, who had never made it to the Top 10, was a new entry straight in at no. 2. Ash, who had slipped to no. 8 after her break-up with Robert, regained the no. 1 position. Ash couldn’t stop talking about how authoritative Bloody was in bed, the hardness of his abs, the size of his biceps. When Viya asked him what Ash was like in bed, Bloody said, ‘Bloody hot and horny, man. Bloody super.’

The Shakespeare Society in college was putting up As You Like It that year. Bloody and Ash went for the audition and were selected. Rumours flew thick and fast about nocturnal sex in the classrooms after late-night play practice. Envious Biharis renamed the society Sex Soc. Robert was nowhere to be seen.

The play, when it was staged, was a huge success. Only the first night was a bit of a disaster. The wireless microphones failed. The audience couldn’t hear the dialogue. The second night was much better, and the third a smashing success. An old boy walked up to the director and offered sponsorship to take the play to Bombay and Calcutta.

The first stop was Bombay. Bloody and Ash went for walks on Marine Drive, sat on the wall running along Queen’s Necklace, their legs dangling above the water. One afternoon, Bloody noticed a number of files strewn on the rocks below. ‘I wonder what’s in those files. Somebody must have been very pissed off.’ Ash felt a little irritated. Here they were, sharing a romantic moment by the sea, and all Bloody could think of was some defeated Bombayite and his files. But she was in love, so she pretended to be interested, ‘I know, so sad, ya ...’

On their last evening in the city, she bought Bloody a pair of cream-coloured shorts from Weekender. Outside Churchgate station, he pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. They stood like that for god knows how long, their foreheads touching, their bodies pressing against each other like in a crowded Bombay local.