Saturday, February 7, 2009

BLANK CALL

Aditya entered the board room and the lights grew dim. Geet was standing in front of him, wearing the bright red skirt, flamenco-like white shirt and black jacket she was wearing when Aditya last saw her. The chorus began.

‘Aa-a-a-aa-a-aa… Aa-a-a-aa-a-aa…’

A tingling sensation ran through my body, and after months and months passing by without a thought of Neel, my mind suddenly floated back to the memory of my calls to Neel when ‘Tum Se Hi’ was his caller tune.

I smiled.

I lingered in the moment for a while. I could almost hear his voice, happy and clear like the morning sun.

‘Hi,’ I would begin.

‘My God! I thought you were dead! Or probably that you thought I was dead. Where’ve you been!’

No matter how often I called Neel; either of us had to be dead, to account for the gap between two calls.

‘I am good, just been busy with college. You say how is office going?’ I would ask him.

‘Ah! Going on…’

‘And how is Sheetal?’

‘Can we talk about you and me before we move on to that subject?’ he would suggest, only a tad angrily. I would laugh.

‘Ok, ok! So how have you been?’

‘Okay-ish man. I told you about our trip?’

‘No… What trip?’

‘Oh all of us from office are planning for a trip to Kanyakumari…’

‘Oh that’s great!’

‘Yeah, but what is not so great is, I have been given the responsibility to make the reservations.’

‘No way! Then I am sure you guys are going no where!’ I’d tease him.

‘Shut up!’ he’d say.

And so we’d go one for at least an hour. Talking rubbish at times, talking things too mature for our respective ages sometimes, and just enjoying the comfortable silence that fell upon the conversation sometimes. Neel. My best friend, albeit an online friend. Frankly, I don’t remember how we bumped into each other. But Neel does still remember… or so I think. Sometimes I feel I live with him, I know so much about him! I’m sure I would be able to find a small ear-ring lost in his apartment if ever I get the chance to be there actually. I could probably draw a map of his apartment for you. Or even a road map all the way from his place to his office, although he is just about more than 1000 kilometers away from him. We talked about the silliest of things. Neel. I feel like something’s gone terribly wrong if I don’t talk to him once every couple of days.

No I haven’t met him in my life ever.

No I am not in love with him.

No he is not a long lost friend.

He is like the best friend I never had. Miles away and yet right next to me when I want him to be. Few can understand the chemistry we share. A lot more ridicule our friendship for the mere fact that we haven’t met each other in person as yet. Right from the day we became friends in fact.

But there is a part of Neel that lives in me, and a part of me that lives in him.

I would tell him anything in this goddamn world if I had to, and not feel scared or insecure or like I maybe ridiculed. I could tell him I don’t ever want to talk to him again and that he was the most heartless person I ever met, and as sure as the sun rises in the east every morning, he would call me the next day, and we’d talk like nothing happened, or like whatever happened happened so long ago, we don’t even remember it. He knew my darkest fears, my deepest secrets. He knew things my mom-dad didn’t know. He knew things I’d not dare to tell my gal-pals about.

He actually knows me inside out… or so I think.

And now its been almost 5 months since our fight. 5 months since we last spoke with each other.

And now that I am listening to this song after all these days, I remember him.

His laugh rings in my ears.

His voice fills my head.

I miss his laugh.

I miss his voice.

I miss him.

I miss the senseless conversations we used to have.

I miss the times when I cried over the phone and he consoled me like no one else could even in person.

I miss the times he got angry at me and shouted at me and then felt bad about it and called me up and apologized.

I miss the times when we spoke till 2 in the night and I cut the call as mom got up and called him again when she went back to bed.

I miss having someone by me who was dearer than the dearest.

As I come back to reality, I realise the song is over, but I’m not in the mood to finish the movie now. I turn the TV off and sit on the sofa with the remote control in my hand for a while. I look at the clock on the wall… its still a while before mom and dad get back from the dinner. The song keeps playing in my mind, and with it my conversations with Neel.

Suddenly I get up from the sofa and dash towards my room. I rummage through a countless number on things lying on my bed and finally find my cell phone. I go to the contacts and type ‘Ne’. But Neel’s name doesn’t appear in the list. My heart sinks deep down in my chest as I remember having deleted his number just a couple of weeks back.

I sigh. I sit heavily on the bed. My eyes start to well.

Out of the blue my old diary pops up in my head. I lift a shoe box thats on the top of my cupboard and put it on my table. I open it and go through my old diaries until I come upon one that’s covered in brown tinted paper. I open the last page of the diary, and my face splits into a wide smile as I see the number.

I take the diary and go sit on my bed again. I pick up the cell phone. I think for a minute and toss it aside. I pick up the cordless and punch in the number. And just as I am about to hit ‘call’ my doorbell rings.

I jump. My heart is racing. I quickly gain control and open the door. Its my neighbour. I remember I had asked her to pick up a parcel that a courier-man left with me when she was out earlier in the day. I give her the parcel. She thanks me and goes back to her apartment. I close the door and go back to my room. I look at the phone and Neel’s number typed onto the screen. I pick up the phone and sit on the bed again. But now I cant bring myself to press the ‘call’ button. I keep staring at the screen for a long time.

I finally hit the ‘call’ button.

The bell rings. I realise Neel no longer has a caller-tune.

I start counting the bells.

I put the phone on the ‘speaker’ mode and put my hands under my lap to prevent myself from cutting the call.

Neel answer’s the call.

‘Hello?’

I take a deep breath. I am scared to exhale. I begin to tremble.

‘Hello, who’s this?’

I open my mouth to say something, but suddenly I feel like I have forgotten to talk. I try to think of something to say. I can’t.

‘Is anybody there?’

Neel’s voice! Hearing his voice after all these days makes me want to burst into tears. It makes me want to scream with joy. But I sit still, not moving a muscle. I have no control over my body and my voice.

There is a long pause. The silence is deafening.

I can hear him breathe – slow and steady.

He begins to say something but stops. I silently pray he’d go on, for even though it was for a nanosecond, I heard his voice – he was going to call out my name.

Please... please...

But he doesn’t go on.

The line goes dead.

I finally breathe out.

My body relaxes.

I unclasp my fingers. They hurt.

I look around.

Lost.

Numb.

I keep staring out of the window, willing myself not to cry. Suddenly the phone rings and shatters the silence. I pick up the cordless and see the number that’s flashing. It doesn’t look familiar. I take a deep breath. I swallow. And in the best voice that I can manage, I answer the call,

‘Hello?’

Silence.

‘I knew it was you…’

Its Neel.

I hold my breath again.

I try to control it, but I can’t. I sniff. Really softly.

But who am I trying to fool? I forget its Neel I am talking to.

He hears the sniff alright. He responds with a sigh.

‘God, I missed you so much…’ he says.

And the tears finally run down my cheeks.

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