REGRET

Malvika looked at Hrishab, sitting right beside her on a flight to Delhi. She looked at his face that seemed as usual – calm, serene, composed – but something told her he was everything but that underneath. And she wondered if any man would ever do for her what Hrishab was doing.

One phone call – and everything had changed for her; her course of the next week, and – perhaps – that of her life. But she wished it hadn’t. She so dearly wished it hadn’t.

They got off at the airport and took a taxi and headed straight for the hospital. Malvika was clutching the paper with the address of the hospital tightly in her one hand; in the other she held Hrishab’s hand. Hrishab looked at Malvika. He clearly saw the panic in her eyes, the worry, the care, the affection, the bond – perhaps the love too, or whatever remained of it. For the first time in his life, Hrishab felt scared, threatened, and like something was slipping out of his hands. He looked at this unusual, unconventional girl sitting next to him – for yes, in as many ways as she was mature, she was still a girl. He looked at the girl sitting next to him, who had possessed his heart like no one had ever been able to. And to see all these emotions in her eyes for someone else and not him scared Hrishab. It scared him a lot.

And yet, though he didn’t understand why, he had agreed to fly with Malvika to Delhi – quite against his will, but because he knew she needed him, or would need him as she faced Vikram after all these years. At least he was hoping she would need him.

As they arrived at the hospital, their palms grew wet – but Malvika didn’t know if it was she who was sweating or Hrishab. And that’s the first time she allowed herself to look at Hrishab directly in his eyes. But she couldn’t think of anything to say that would put him to comfort – no reassurance. She just kept staring into those warm brown eyes, and looked away. As the taxi parked in front of the hospital, Malvika let go of Hrishab’s hand.

‘I’ll go inside.’

Hrishab nodded as he pulled out his wallet to pay for the ride. He pulled a single bag out of the trunk and thanked the taxi driver. He turned around and saw Malvika standing at the counter – and was suddenly reminded of the first time he had seen her, ironically in the same dress. There was a sense of intriguing austerity in the way that Malvika carried herself around – something that pulled you toward her, made you want to know her more, but not without knowing you can only get so much closer to her on your own; from thereon, it was her choice, if she let you get any closer or not.

‘Room 109,’ Malvika said, as Hrishab reached her. She took his hand again and they walked to the elevator. But there were far too many people standing to get in. Malvika led them to the stairs and they started climbing them. Hrishab was tired and wanted to protest although it was just one floor, but he took one look at Malvika, and couldn’t. They took the stairs in small quick steps and were soon on the first floor. They looked around. A nurse stopped by.

‘Yes?’

‘Room 109?’

‘First room on your left.’

‘Thank you.’

They started walking toward the room – but suddenly Malvika had slowed down. Hrishab noticed this and slowed down as well. Finally, she stopped a few steps short of the room. Hrishab stopped as well. He waited patiently for Malvika to do something. She turned around and looked at him. He looked at her.

He gave her hand a squeeze and blinked.

She turned left and walked right upto the room.

She could see him inside the room.

He had lost quite some weight – his tall frame looked frail and weak, as he lay on the bed. There was a copy of Wuthering Heights propped open upon his chest. Malvika instantly recognised it as the one she had gifted him, and the one he had mocked her about. She looked at all the tubes going inside his body – carrying God only knows what not. He looked quite okay otherwise. And then Malvika noticed his head.

Those thick black curls that she had locked her fingers into once upon a time were gone. What remained was only the skull cap that she used to tease him about.

A lady sitting next to him looked up from her book at Malvika. She immediately got up and came outside the room.

‘Hello aunty,’ Malvika greeted her, as she put her free hand on the lady’s shoulder. The lady grabbed it and started crying. Malvika looked at Hrishab and then back at the lady.

‘Thank you for coming beta,’ the lady said. ‘He is waiting for you.’

Malvika smiled at the lady, and opened the door, and though she had made no sound, Vikram opened his eyes and looked at her. He smiled.

‘Hi.’

And with that, Malvika let go or Hrishab’s hand and walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

-x-x-

The lady looked at Hrishab, offering him half an awkward smile. Hrishab smiled back.

‘Are you with Malvika?’

‘Yes.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Hrishab.’

She went and sat in one of the chairs placed outside the room. She motioned for Hrishab to join her.

‘I am glad you could come with her. I had been angry and worried when Vikram had called her – angry because he had not done the right thing by disturbing her and her life by making that phone call out of the blue, and with the news that he had; worried because I didn’t know how Malvika would take it.’

‘You knew about your son and Malvika?’

A long pause. A sigh.

‘Yes.’

Another long awkward pause.

‘I’m glad she is not alone,’ the lady said again. Hrishab could not really read the emotion in her voice. But he could make out one thing for sure – the woman was trying to say ‘I’m glad she found someone’ in every way other than directly saying it.

Hrishab steered the lady towards her son.

‘When did you find out?’

‘Eight months back.’

So he had thought a lot before informing Malvika, Hrishab thought.

‘How did you come to know?’

The lady removed her specs and put them into a case before answering him.

‘He threw up blood.’

Hrishab didn’t know what else to say.

‘You must be tired. Shall we go have a cup of coffee?’ the lady offered.

‘Sure, if that is not too much trouble,’ Hrishab said, but only to be polite. As much as a part of him was aching to wrap his lips around a cup of strong, hot coffee, a much bigger part of him was dying to burst into the room and pull Malvika out of it. But he knew he couldn’t do it; and more than that he knew he didn’t have to do it. But when life threatens your love, all logic seems ridiculous.

Hrishab took one look at the door of the room, and walked past it. Resisting himself a glance inside through the small glass window on the door with great difficulty, he followed the woman to the hospital canteen.

-x-x-

Malvika put her purse in one of the chairs inside the room and came and stood by the bed. Vikram closed the book and put it on the side table.

‘I can’t believe you’ve finally come around to reading it,’ Malvika said, in a desperate attempt to make casual conversation.

‘Yeah, I don’t have the kind of time to put it off to any later a date,’ Vikram said, smiling.

Malvika looked pained.

‘Come on, you know me and my sick sense of humour,’ Vikram said, ‘that only you found funny.’

Malvika made a sincere effort to smile.

‘Come sit,’ Vikram said, tucking his blanket underneath himself and making room for Malvika on the bed.

‘No I’m fine,’ she protested. There was hardly enough room on the bed for two.

‘Come on,’ Vikram said and held her hand.

Instantly Malvika went stiff. She inhaled deeply.

She still remembered his touch; and how the calluses on his palms felt. The familiarity had not faded, even over three years.

Vikram noticed it, and let go of her hand immediately.

Malvika sat down next to him. She was careful not to disturb or touch any tubes or needles running into Vikram’s veins.

‘So how are you?’

‘I am fine.’

‘You look beautiful,’ Vikram said.

Malvika looked at Vikram. This was the first time he had called her beautiful. Malvika couldn’t respond to the compliment and only nodded.

‘Was it a good flight till down here?’

‘Yes.’

‘On time too?’

‘Yep.’

Pause.

‘Malvika, thanks for coming.’

‘How could I refuse Vikram?’ Malvika said, as she allowed herself to look at Vikram.

Vikram hung his head – ‘After the way it ended between us, I never thought I would ever see you again. And I wouldn’t have, I guess, if it hadn’t been for my condition. But I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to talk to or meet more than you.’

‘What do you mean? What about Dhiraj?’

Vikram paused before answering, surprise evident in his eyes – ‘You still remember Dhiraj?’

‘I remember everything Vikram. It is not so long ago for me to start to forget everything.’

Pause.

‘He is in Auckland now. Got a job.’

‘And…’ Malvika hesitated.

‘Swati?’ Vikram prompted. Malvika only nodded.

‘We are not in touch anymore.’

‘Why? What happened?’

‘We broke up within a few months.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Vikram didn’t reply.

‘What went wrong?’ Malvika tried again.

‘I really don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Oh ok. I’m sorry I brought it up.’

‘No no, come on. It’s alright, you couldn’t have known.’

Vikram looked at Malvika as she tried to think of something to say to stay away from the most obvious of questions. Vikram could see her struggle inside her head, as she went through all the things she could talk about so as to steer clear from talking about his illness.

‘So you still drive your old Kinetic?’ Vikram asked out of the blue.

‘Of course! I love it! She’s my first love!’ Malvika said, trying to sound cheerful. ‘And I’m sure you still have your Yamaha?’

‘Nah, I sold it.’

‘What? Why!’ Malvika exclaimed, the surprise genuine in her voice.

‘Just. Didn’t feel like driving it anymore.’

‘How are all your crazy friends from college?’

‘I don’t know,’ Vikram answered after thinking for a while.

‘What do you mean “I don’t know”?’

‘I am not in touch with anyone anymore.’

‘Oh my God. Vikram what happened?’

‘I don’t know. Everything just went wrong suddenly, one after the other. First it went kaput between me and Swati. And then just everything went wrong. And then I was diagnosed of cancer, about a week before your birthday. It just all went kind of downhill from there, everything just went out of – Malvika, you’re crying.’

Malvika wiped her tears of her cheeks, but they refuse to stay behind her eyes any longer.

‘You’d called on my birthday. Why didn’t you tell me?’ Malvika said through her tears. And then, neither could tell who initiated it, but they were in each other’s arms and their lips had locked.

Malvika clung onto Vikram’s shirt and kissed him. Vikram kissed her back, holding her in his arms, caressing her and try to calm her down. But Malvika couldn’t stop. She kept on crying. She cried and cried till her throat went dry. ‘Why?’ she kept on asking.

‘I just didn’t,’ was all Vikram had to say in reply.

‘Vikram, don’t you know even by now, what you meant to me?’ Malvika asked sincerely.

‘I do Malvika – and it scares me. I am not worth what you give me.’

Malvika nodded ‘no’.

‘I am not Malvika, even though you think otherwise.’

‘Vikram that’s not even an answer! We were a lot more than just…’ Malvika couldn’t complete her sentence. ‘Vikram you were always special to me, and you will always be! You should’ve told me Vikram! I can’t believe it… all this time, all these years… and you didn’t call me even once! I know we didn’t break up on a healthy note, but still! We meant a lot more to each other…’

‘It was not until I lost you that I realised it Malvika. I just couldn’t bring myself to call you.’

‘Vikram…’

But Malvika could say no more.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Malvika got up and reached for her purse. She pulled out a napkin and went into the bathroom as a nurse came in to check on Vikram.

‘Is there anything you need?’ Malvika heard a female voice above the sound of tap water.

‘No I’m fine, thank you.’ Vikram’s voice. Malvika wiped the water off her face and entered the room again, just as the nurse left. She put her napkin back into the purse and came and sat down beside Vikram again.

‘It feels so nice to see you Malvika. I really mean it.’

‘It is good to see you too Vikram.’

‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out – ’

‘Stop it Vikram. Forget about it.’

Pause.

‘You tell me about yourself! How are you doing?’

‘I am fine. I’m doling ok.’

‘Have you come alone?’

‘No I got someone along with me…’ Malvika answered tentatively.

Vikram looked at her.

‘What’s his name?’ he asked.

‘Hrishab.’

Pause.

‘Would you like to meet him?’

‘I would love to.’

-x-x-

Hrishab was pacing the corridor outside Room 109. It had been almost an hour since Malvika had entered the room. He couldn’t wait any longer. Vikram’s mother had stayed back in the canteen as she bumped into someone she knew, while Hrishab had come back up to the room. Hrishab wondered what Malvika and Vikram were talking about, what they were doing. Sure Vikram had only a few months of life left, but Hrishab had no sympathy for him. Malvika had barely given him the most essential information, but Hrishab had never had to ask; for any person with even an ounce of compassion could tell what a tough time Malvika had had to go through. And then Hrishab could read faces.

He had chosen never to ask Malvika anything after the first and the last time she told him about Vikram, but that does not mean Hrishab did not know what had happened. And he had no sympathy for a guy who could put someone he loved at some point of time at least through something like that. And least of all someone Hrishab now loved more than anyone else. He could and would never forgive Vikram. Ever.

The door to room 109 opened and Malvika stepped outside – one look and Hrishab knew he had made a mistake by agreeing to fly Malvika down to Delhi. A girl like her did not deserve to be put through this turmoil, no matter how much she wanted it.

Malvika walked upto Hrishab. Hrishab stepped toward her and hugged her. He kissed her on the forehead.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I am fine,’ she said while still hugging him back, her head on his chest. She stayed like that for a moment, then looked up at him.

‘Will you come inside and say hi, please?’

‘Why?’

Malvika paused – ‘For me?’

-x-x-

‘Hi.’

‘Hi Hrishab. Thanks for flying Malvika down. I am really grateful. And it’s nice to meet you.’

Malvika looked at the two of them – one too upset to talk, the other too ashamed. She tried to fill in.

‘Hrishab works with Capgemini.’

‘Oh I see.’

‘He will be flying to Texas next week regarding work. He is going to be there for about a month.’

‘Texas is an awesome place.’

Malvika’s phone buzzed. She fished it out of her purse.

‘I’m sorry, I have to take this. Please excuse me,’ she said as she walked out of the room.

Vikram looked at Hrishab.

‘Thanks for coming, really. It means a lot to me.’

‘I did not do it for you.’

‘And you have done it quite unwillingly for her as well, as I can see.’

Hrishab began to say something, but stopped himself. For as much as he could never bring himself to forgive Vikram, he could read the regret on his face, as clear as ink on paper. Only he wished he could tell Vikram everything that he had to do to pull Malvika out of him, to convince her to trust people again, to trust herself again. Only he knew what that girl talking on the phone outside had been through, and how much it had thrown her off track, how deeply it had shook her. Only Hrishab knew how helpless Malvika had sounded when she’d told Hrishab why she wasn’t attracted to him in spite of him being such a great person, why she felt nothing about a guy who would have otherwise made her go weak in the knees, why she was so inert. Vikram didn’t know how horribly Malvika had closed into herself, and how difficult it had been for her to come out of her closet. He didn’t know how much the girl had paid, and only for having loved – selflessly and honestly.

But the regret and remorse on Vikram’s face was unmistakable. And Hrishab couldn’t possibly bring himself to say anything to him.

‘I threw away something that people don’t get even once in their life. I didn’t know what I had when I had it. But I hope you do. And I hope you will take good care of her and cherish her much more than I ever had or ever can.’

Hrishab nodded in reply.

Malvika entered the room as if on cue. She looked at both of them and smiled.

‘We are going to our hotel room now. We will come back in the evening to see you again,’ Malvika said, as they decided to take leave.

‘I’ll let you say goodbye,’ Hrishab said and walked out of the room.

‘So long,’ Malvika said, as she bent down to hug Vikram.

‘Bye. I really missed you all these years. It was so nice to see you,’ Vikram said, as he put his arms around Malvika’s neck and hugged her back.

‘Anything I can bring for you when I come in the evening?’ Malvika asked.

‘Just yourself – it is more than I can ever be grateful for anyway.’

‘Come on Vikram, don’t talk that way.’

‘You still get so disturbed Malvika – its alright. I am ready now.’

‘What do you mean?’

Vikram looked at Malvika, taking some time before he answered. He looked at those eyes that were once full of love for him, and those arms that he’d caressed standing in the balcony of his house. He looked at the locket that still hung around Malvika's neck and that he had never liked but had grown fond of over time. He looked at her, unblinking, drinking in with his eyes the sight of that lovely face, that lovely girl, that girl who loved him, but who he could never love back as much. He looked at her, as if absorbing her so that he could keep her in his memory forever. He tried to remember the Malvika he had known, and it struck him – nothing had changed. She still loved him, at some level. There was a part of her that she had with him, and that he knew would always be only his, till eternity, even though she was with Hrishab now and they were going to get married.

Nothing had changed.

And yet everything had.

‘Nothing,’ he said finally, and Malvika walked out of the door.

-x-x-

Vikram’s mother walked into the room. Vikram kept on staring outside the window. She came in and sat next to him on the bed. She looked at him. But he kept staring out of the window.

‘Are you feeling better?’

But Vikram didn’t say a word.

‘I am glad she came,’ Vikram’s mother said.

Vikram still didn’t respond.

His mother called out to him – ‘Vikram?’

He still didn’t respond.

She got off the bed and walked around to face Vikram. Tears were running down his cheeks. She stretched out a hand to wipe them off, and Vikram collapsed into tears. He hugged his mother and buried his face in her bosom. ‘I wish!’ he cried…

And he never said any more.

BE THIS WAY

You’ll probably never know how much I loved you
But it had rather be this way

You will never know why I gave up on coffee,
or why I cut my hair
You will never know why I now like Metallica,
and where’re all the soft toys gone, that were once there

You’ll probably never know why I learnt to bake a Black-forest cake only cos you liked it
And you’re never going to know why I stopped talking to that boy from my school you had a fight with

You will keep guessing why I took dance lessons,
and why I kept saying – “I’m all old school
and chivalry will always have its charm,
even though you think going Dutch is cool.”

You’ll keep wondering why I gave up on old Hindi movies,
or why I started watching those English action flicks
You’ll never know where all my ear-rings have gone,
and why it now lies unused – my favourite kohl stick

I guess you never knew it was you I meant when I said
“My guy must be tall
and dark and funny and strong and loving and a gentleman”
And you’d mocked – “That’s all?!”
And you’ll probably never know how much I loved you,
and how much I miss your calls

But it had rather be this way any day

A broken heart is easier to handle,
than to handle “I wish I hadn’t met you anyway”

A broken heart is much more easy to handle
than to have you in my life at a price I can hardly pay
and only for you to sometime, someday, without the slightest of notice, just walk away…

25

Woke up with a wonderful feeling yesterday that lingered till my last waking moment before I hit the bed. Mom had gone out to meet her group of friends at Vaishali early morning, and it was only after she got back and rang the bell did I wake up from my slumber. I quickly put on my specs and opened the door for her. she stepped in. I turned around and went into my parents room and lied down next to my father. Mom came and sat next to him on the other side. I raised both my hands and stretched them out, one at each of them, and wished them –

‘Happy 25th Anniversary!’

Both smiled at me and then at each other very sweetly. Mom immediately got out of the bed. I got pissed off.

‘Bas na ga jara… kiti uthlya uthlya kat kat karte?’ (Sit for a while, no! why do you have to hurry into your chores right away?)

‘Tujha Ajja utarnar nahiye warun, swaypak karayala… baghu de mala kay kay karayachaye te!’ (Your grandfather is not going to descend from the heavens to make food! Lemme go and see what to do…)

She walked out of the room before I could further try to persuade her to laze around a little more.

‘Ashi kay arre hi!’ I said to Dad. (Why is she like this?) dad just raised his hand and let it fall right back onto the bed. I gave him a bear hug. Felt like childhood, when I used to get up and out of my bed, and come and sleep with Dad again for a while, every Sunday. Mom came into the bedroom and started complaining, completing the childhood memory.

‘Uth na ata bande, kay challaye?’ (Come on now, get up dearest! Whats going on?)

‘You should be the one hugging him! But since you are not, I am!’ I teased my mom. That finally did the trick and Mom sat down on the bed, laughing. Dad uttered his first words of the day –

‘Chal we’ll celebrate Lazy Day!’

‘Yay!’ I said.

‘Nandu arre jara aajchya divashi tari uth lavkar!’ (Nandu at least get up early today !)

Dad just nodded ‘no’ sleepily. And Mom agreed. Moither was being very easy to convince and coax today! Maybe she too didn’t want to actually cook food today or anything. I seized the opportunity.

‘Ok that’s it! The head of the family has declared it to be a Lazy Day, and so shall it be! I’ll go get eggs and bread. We’ll have nice omelet sandwiches for brunch!’

‘With cheesh!’ Dad added, his eyes still closed.

‘Okies! With cheesh!’ I said, mimicking Dad. About a couple of hours later we were all enjoying hot omelet sandwiches at our dining table.

‘What yaar! Twnty-five years with the same woman!’ Dad said, eyeing Mom out of the corner of his eye. ‘Don’t you think I should upgrade?’ he asked me.

‘Go and ask barni!’ I said. ‘Barni’ is a nick name we had all given to one of Dad’s very old college friends – Dad had been her romantic interest back in those days. They happened to have met recently at some wedding and were back in touch now.

‘Tereko 25 din bhi she legi na, toh main khud khushi khushi tereko talaq degi!’ Mom announced. (If she can tolerate you even for 25 days, I wil happily divorce you and step out of your way!)

‘No, but you know why I never remember our anniversary, or how many years it has been?’ Dad asked me genuinely. ‘Its because I never had to count…’

I put the sandwich in my hand down in my plate and clapped. ‘Brownie point, Mr Belvalkar!’ I said. Mom leaned in and gave Dad a hug. She served herself another couple of bread slices and went about making her second sandwich, when suddenly she looked at Dad and said –

‘Aila Nandu! Pacchis saal ke baad fir se omelet sandwich yaar!’ (Hey Nandu! Omelet sandwiches again, after 25 years!) And what followed was a Kodak moment. Dad, who is usually quite subtle about his emotions, actually high-fived Mom! And his face was lit up with the happiest smiles I had ever seen on that face, that reflected in his eyes. I looked at the two of them, having their moment, and smiled, satisfied and immensely happy. I wanted to ask Mom what she meant, but I didn’t. It was clear from their expressions that it was a very dear memory and probably also a top secret! And I wished to keep it that way… I continued to devour my sandwich and let them have their moment. Soon brunch was over and Dad had dressed up and was ready to leave.

‘Arre wait! What about dinner?’ I asked Dad just as he was about to step out.

‘If the car arrives, we go to Mainland China… so pray the car arrives!’ Dad said, and pulled the door shut. Me and mom eagerly prayed out new car arrive in the evening, and arrive it did. to complete a perfect day, we went and dined at Mom’s favorite restaurant and had a nice time together, just the three of us after a long long time. I didn’t attend to any friends that day, Dad canceled his Harmonica batches in the evening, and Mom actually asked me to give her a facial at home! – which is so so so unlike her!

We had one of the loveliest dinners we had had in a long time. Mom and Dad were both elated and in a world of their own. I felt a little like an outside, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I felt very happy for the two of them. And I know I am their daughter, but I still silently blessed the two of them in my mind and in my heart. When our drinks arrived we all raised a toast to ‘another twenty-five years of togetherness’… and it was perfect. The last images in my mind before I went to bed that night were of mother waiting for Dad to return in the evening. There was something very different in her eyes, on her face that day. And it was beautiful.

If in another twenty-five years, I can be even half as happy with my husband as Mom and Dad are with each other, I will consider myself blessed. God bless them.

OF STOLEN KISSES...

My legs are aching out of wearing high-heeled footwear for so long. Not that I particularly like high-heels, but I had to match him. The heels reduced our height difference from 7 inches to 5. Not much, I know, but still better.

We reach the apartment and park the bike in the parking.

My heart sinks, for I know his mother and sister and brother will be upstairs, and we will have to go back to being ‘polite’ in front of each other... not carefree and bindaas anymore... and not even slightly romantic. Not that we are going around... but I guess we are at least heading towards it.

The thought of climbing up the stairs makes my legs ache even more, although his flat is only on the first floor. I sigh.

‘Is your tongue still weird?’ he asks.

We have just had coffee in Barista; and mine was sinfully strong and bitter and without sugar – the exact way I like it – but with two scoops of Vanilla ice-cream. My tongue had become a bit numb in the café with all that ice-cream, and we had had ourselves a big laugh with me trying my best to say my name properly.

‘No! Its fine now. It doesn’t stay that way for too long.’

‘Really?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ I say.

‘How about we find out?’ he says.

And the next moment he has pulled me into his arms and is kissing me like there is never going to be a tomorrow.

I am zapped.

I lose balance.

He catches me and holds me up against the wall. He is still kissing me, his hands pinning me to himself.

I am breathless.

Suddenly, he lets go of me, looks into my eyes, and smiles... only for a second... his smile one of triumph, challenge, and extremely coy... all at the same time…

And then he starts walking up the stairs again... as if nothing happened.

And I am left begging for more...

BEAUTY

I get off the train – sticky, sweating and smelling like a pig.

I lay eyes on her.

And suddenly I am not feeling tired anymore, and my fatigue is gone..

She’s not beautiful. Not even close. She is just an average looking Indian girl.

But nothing about her is average.

She is wearing a beautiful sky blue colored salwaar kameez, and long dangling ear-rings. Ok, the ear-rings are a bit too long for my taste. But it really doesn’t matter. Everything else about her is so beautiful.

I look around, as I try to comprehend what I am feeling.

I would never otherwise describe her as beautiful.

But that sight… of my best friend… whom I am seeing after all these years… the sight is beautiful… the light scent of her perfume, which is still the same after all these years… the wait in her eyes… her frantic search for a familiar face in the crowd… for my familiar face… the stillness in her stance, her calm body language contradicts her state of mind, which she cannot hide no matter how hard she tries… for her eyes are too innocent… and bare… I see her anticipation, her excitement right through her efforts to conceal it. And the child like beauty amuses me and pulls me like a magnet.

She still hasn’t seen me, almost as if purposely. She is looking in every possible direction but mine.

I linger close to the edge of the platform where I got off, and enjoy the moment… the moment that will soon be gone…

I’m almost crushed as I realise it won’t last too long.

She looks at her watch, as if to remind me how long it has been since I have seen her.

I pick up my bag and start walking towards her, and I laugh as it comes back to me…

I had asked her for a recent picture of her, just in case I don’t recognize her. And I realise that at that moment, the picture just isn’t coming to my mind…

LIVING WITH YOU

I stop writing suddenly. The pen falls out of my hands.

A gentle breeze brings in that peculiar smell that I have just begun getting used to.

I sniff.

I can’t believe it.

My heart starts racing.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath till the smell fills my lungs. I take a deep breath till your smell fills my head and drives me mad. That typical smell after you have just had a bath.

I breathe again, and I forget all about my submissions and notes and books.

It couldn’t be!

Has your love driven me so mad that I am imagining and feeling things like they were real?

How could you be in my house!

But the smell… it refuses to go away.

I get up from my chair and walk out of my room. My heart’s begun to race faster, if at all it can. I tip-toe towards my door.

I open it.

The smell hits me. Stronger.

I am sure by now that my olfactory has gone haywire.

I track the smell to my parents’ room.

My parents’ room?

I reach for the door.

I open it.

My heart stops beating

“Hey, you up already?” Dad asks, looking at me.

“What’s that smell?” I ask.

“You like it? One of my friends gifted it to me,” Dad says, throwing a bottle of cologne at me.

I catch it.

I open the lid.

I smell it.

I close my eyes.

I smile...

ANALOGY

‘But I have nothing to give you! My hands are empty!’

‘Not any more!’

I smiled as Jo slid her hand into Friedrich’s and they kissed under the umbrella as the rain poured down on them; and the picture blacked out and the credits started to roll. I kept staring at the TV-screen for a moment, lost in the world of ‘Little Women’… In a time when girls wore dresses that were hideously impractical and huge and made them trip over every time they tried to be elegant and walk… specially girls like Josephine March! I got lost in a world where boys actually meant all the things they said when they proposed a girl and asked her hand in marriage. I got lost in a world which though it existed only a few decades ago now seemed like eons ago.

I tried to imagine what life would be like in a world like that. I for sure would be a ‘Jo’; caught between someone I was and someone I wanted to be; clumsy and not much of a girl, or a ‘lady’… and with thoughts and questions like ‘Why do we have to marry at all?’ in my mind. But then, I realised, life wouldn’t be all that bad either; if it was going to end up in my meeting a ‘Friedrich Bhaer’! And also if it meant that I would be a published author for sure someday!

I came back to the present as the credits rolled out and the advertisements started. I quickly put the TV off, but not without hearing ‘Das saal se mera sathi’; Aaah! What a stupid stupid ad! (Sorry if you are an ardent SRK fan… actually no; why should I be sorry! I take it back!) I always hate it the way the commercials take away from all the aftereffect of a nice movie; especially a movie like the one I had just seen. That’s why I prefer seeing movies at the theatre. I cursed no one in particular and turned the TV off, the frown on my face refusing to go away. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tried to go back to Jo’s world, but with little success. But the frown sure did fade away in the process. I went to my room and shut the door. I propped onto the pillows on my bed, lying on my stomach. I looked out of the window, now the smile on my face refusing to go away. I could see a clear blue sky and the leaves of the almond tree planted in our parking. It had grown tall and I could almost reach out and touch a few of its leaves from my window. I looked at the leaves, now turning into a shade of bright crimson-orange red… quite similar to the shade of orange-red leaves I had just seen in the autumn of the Little Women’s world. I smiled. Again and again, my mind flashed back to Teddy’s proposal and to Friedrich’s kiss, in the opera, and outside Jo’s house. Suddenly a sher I had once received as an SMS came back to me…

Jisne hume chaha, usse hum chah na sake
Jise chaha, usse hum pa na sake
Yeh samajh lo dil tutne ka khel hai
Kisika toda aur apna bacha na sake

I don’t know why it popped into my mind at that very moment. The very next moment though, I found myself trying to see myself in place of Jo. I have always liked Jo the most, of all the four March sisters; probably because in ways more than one, she seemed to be my alter ego, my twin soul, running around the house shouting ‘Marmee’ every time she called out to her mother. I felt like he was addressing me when her father comes back from the army and addresses Jo as she flies into his arms as ‘The Wild One’. Jo, who lived in a world of her own where Vampires were a reality. Almost immediately I hoped though that my writing wasn’t as bad as Jo’s, or as bad as Friedrich made it out to be. I tried to decide which would be worse, it being bad, or it not being appreciated by a ‘Friedrich’; and my smile faded a bit as I realised there was no ‘Friedrich’ in my life… sigh… or was there? Yes… sure there was! I had found ‘my Friedrich’… yes I had. But he was miles apart at the moment… but then so were Jo and Friedrich at some point, right? And my smile grew wider than before at the prospects…

If only this one analogy, which was the only difference for the time, turned out to be true too, it would so be a happy ending… just like in the movie…

LONGING

I know you are not here… And that you will probably never be…

I know you are never going to read this… these words that I have got to write anyway…

I don’t know you… I don’t know where you are… but I can somehow feel it, within the heart of my heart, that as I write these words one by one, as they come to my mind, you can perceive them… somewhere… somehow… I don’t know what to say to you… does anything need to be said? They say when you really want something; the whole universe conspires to get it for you… I don’t know what I want… but if you can feel me, you may well know by now, what it is that I want…

And till then, I will wait… in this pain that doesn’t really hurt… in this wait that is necessary… I have come to like it now… come to live in this longing to meet you someday… Will you be like I have seen you to be in my thoughts, or have felt you to be like when I close my eyes? Will I recognize you if I saw you in a crowded street? Is that what ‘striking a chord’ means? I believe in serendipity… do you? Will you ever come across this? Will you try to reach out to me when you do? Maybe you will… Maybe you won’t…

And even though I really wish you would… a part of me wants to live in this longing… forever…

PERFECT PROPOSAL

I woke up with a cold sweat on my forehead and my heart racing faster than PT Usha perhaps; and my first thought was: Do early morning dreams really come true?

I hoped and hoped they didn't… I didn’t want to lose Dhananjay after all… Not for a thousand other friends… Or for a thousand other guys precisely… You only come across your dream guy once after all, right?

I went through my daily chores mechanically… I had Chemistry practicals that day, so I had already bathed and packed my bag by the time it was eight. Mom had packed my tiffin for me and left it on the kitchen counter already, and she had left for her morning walk. I entered the kitchen and picked up my tiffin. Stuffing it in my bag, I left the house sharp at eight-fifteen.

Dhananjay made a grand entry at nine, for a practical scheduled to begin at eight-thirty. Ma’am was already past the stage of getting angry at him.

‘Sorry ma’am I__’

‘No! Its ok. You don’t have to explain,’ Ma’am replied, her voice rather even. Dhananjay, and the rest of the students including me, rolled our eyes. Dhananjay muttered a meek ‘thanks’ and went to keep his bag on the shelf.

‘What are you doing?’ Ma’am called out.

Dhananjay turned around and looked at ma’am. He kept staring at her.

‘Out.’ Ma’am said.

‘Ma’am but__’

‘I said its ok. You don’t have to explain. Pick up your bag and out.’

Realising he didn’t have a choice, Dhananjay picked up his bag and stormed out of the lab. Suddenly everybody in the lab became quiet. There was not a word to be heard after that till the end of the practicals. We joined Dhananjay in the canteen at eleven-thirty.

‘Kya yaar!’ (What man!) Niraj exclaimed. ‘Why can’t you be on time for once?’

‘Arre ervicha thik ahe, (It’s another thing everyday) I come late on purpose. But I had to go to the doctor today morning.’

My ears pricked.

‘Why? What happened?’ Niraj asked.

‘Same thing. This cold will really kill me one day.’

‘Is it causing a lot of trouble?’ Tanmaya asked.

‘Not ‘a lot’ really, but enough to make me make a trip to the doctor.’

‘So what did the doctor say?’

‘What will he say? “Take care, wear a sweater,” this, that.’

‘But you said your asthma was under control now?’ Tanmaya again.

‘Yes! But just check out the cold man! 5.5o! Who thought Pune could get this cold! It gets a bit hard in the winters…’ Dhananjay said.

‘Yeah…’ Niraj said.

‘I know…’ Tanmaya said.

‘Why are you so quiet today?’ Dhananjay asked me suddenly.

‘Nothing…’ I said and looked away.

‘God! I’m ravenous!’ Niraj said out of the blue. ‘Let’s eat.’

We all proceeded to bring our tiffins out of our bags. Dhananjay put a hand into his bag; it came out empty.

‘Shit!’ he exclaimed, banging his hand on the table.

‘Now what?’ Tanmaya said.

‘I forgot my tiffin.’

‘Oh no!’

‘That’s ok,’ Niraj said, ‘We all share our tiffins anyway right?’

‘Why don’t we go to the University Canteen instead?’ Dhananjay suggested. ‘I mean if it’s ok with__’

‘No!’

This came from me. I surprised myself as much as I surprised the three of them at the sudden exclamation.

‘Why not?’ Tanmaya asked.

‘Let’s just not go ok?’ I said; for only I had foreseen what lie ahead of us if we were to go to the University Canteen.

‘But why?’ Dhananjay asked. ‘In fact a little bit of sun will do me good.’

‘Ya, come on! Let’s go yaar!’ Niraj persuaded. I tried my best to protest, but couldn’t. Finally I gave in to the idea.

‘I don’t feel like driving though,’ Dhananjay said.

‘Come on! You know I can’t drive!’ Niraj said.

‘It’s ok! We’ll drive today!’ Tanmaya said.

‘Ok! I’m sitting on your bike then,’ Niraj said, leaving Dhananjay to sit behind me. Soon we were on our way to the University Canteen.

‘Whats the matter yaar?’ Dhananjay asked me, his voice lower than usual, as we were driving. We had entered the University premises.

‘Nothing,’ I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

‘You are shivering,’ Dhananjay said.

‘It’s the cold.’

‘Since when did you start feeling cold?’ Dhananjay asked me. I kept quiet. ‘You are looking pretty today though,’ he added.

Under normal circumstances, this should have sent me to seventh-heaven. I should have been extremely flattered, ecstatic, and incomparably happy. I mean, you don’t always receive compliments from your dream guy right? But I didn’t even as much as smile at him. In fact, I was almost on the verge of tears.

‘And why did you say ‘no’ to coming to the canteen?’ he asked further.

Now how was I to answer that? ‘Because you are going to die now’? I tried to fight back my tears. Superstitions, when they are related to or when they involve people you really love and care about, can scare the daylights out of you. I didn’t want to lose Dhananjay; no! No way! On the one hand my heart was praying and praying madly that nothing should go wrong, that my nightmare shouldn’t come true. And on the other hand my brain was laughing at me for actually believing or thinking that such things happen… that such superstitions come true.

‘Hey! WATCH OUT!’ he shouted in my ear. I blinked; and the next moment I found myself headed straight towards a Maruti 800. I swerved my bike and avoided banging head-on into it.

‘Stop! Stop right now,’ Dhananjay said. I obeyed. He got off the bike. I got off it too. He took the key from me.

‘Sit.’ He ordered. I obeyed. We took off again.

We were both quiet after that; he being angry; me… a lot of things. I breathed in his scent. My lungs filled with the smell of ‘Old Spice’. His muffler was fluttering in the air as he sped through the maze of roads. Suddenly I had a strong urge to hug him, and before I knew it, I really was hugging him.

‘Hey! Hello! Kya hua hai yaar tujhe aaj?’ (Whats happened to you today?)

I kept quiet.

Dhananjay didn’t say anything after that; but he placed one of his hands on mine and drove slower. He slacked in his back, making me nuzzle against him. The rest of the journey was completed in silence, with him whistling one of the stanzas of our favourite song, Bin Tere Sanam.

About an hour later we were having a walk through the University Garden. We had just finished eating, and nobody was in a mood to go back to college and sit for the lectures.

‘Lekin bol na yaar, tujhe hua kya hai?’ (But what is the matter with you?) Niraj again asked me.

‘And don’t say nothing,’ Tanmaya said.

‘Abe mujhe puchh na!’ (Ask me!) Dhananjay said. ‘I’ll tell you what the matter is. Madam is lost in thoughts of her lover!’

I shot Dhananjay a look. His eyes were twinkling with laughter. Tanmaya and Niraj were already acting like I had announced my engagement or something. We were out of the garden now, heading back towards our vehicles.

‘What! Really?’

‘Who is it?’

I kept looking at Dhananjay. He stared back at me.

I looked away. I could hear them all tease me, but I couldn’t really figure out what they were saying. I was there with them physically, but mentally I seemed to be lost somewhere…

‘Do you believe in superstitions?’ I asked all of a sudden, and everyone went quiet.

‘What?’ Dhananjay was the first one to speak.

‘I just had this weird dream last night,’ I said, finally coming out with what had been eating my mind since morning. ‘They say early morning dreams come true. Do you think they really do?’

The silence that ensued was so dead, if I tried real hard, I could’ve probably heard their hearts beat. With perfect timing I realised there was nobody on the road; it had emptied almost suddenly. There was not a vehicle or a person to be seen. I glanced back at the garden; it had emptied too. Just like in the dream…

‘I don’t know…’ Tanmaya said. ‘Maybe they do.’

‘Yeah… I mean, I never had a dream early morning. I mean, I don’t get up that early anyway, so I wouldn’t know really…’ Niraj said.

‘Yeah… And I don’t dream so much…’ Tanmaya added. ‘So…’

I looked at Niraj and Tanmaya. Suddenly I realised they were wearing the same clothes as they had dressed up in in my dream. I looked at Dhananjay. He was wearing the same clothes too.

I closed my eyes. And just then I heard a car in the distance, approaching us from behind. I quickly pulled Dhananjay on the inside of the road and started walking on the outside.

‘Anyway! So where were we?’ Niraj said.

‘Madam’s lover!’ Tanmaya prompted, and they all started laughing. The sound of the car grew louder. It was coming up fast… real fast.

‘Right! Ae bol na Dhananjay (Come on tell us Dhananjay). Who is the mystery guy?’

I turned around. I could see the car now. I turned back and looked at Dhananjay.

‘It’s no one,’ I said.

‘Oh ya! Really?’ Dhananjay said, looking at me, his eyes twinkling as they always do when he is up to some mischief.

‘Ya.’

‘But then what was that stuff about__’

And just then, Dhananjay stopped in mid-sentence, took my hand and pulled me hard towards himself. The car drove past us.

I heard Tanmaya shout.

I heard Niraj shout.

Me and Dhananjay fell to the ground.

I quickly recovered and got up.

‘Are you nuts or__’ Dhananjay began to say, but his voice got swallowed up in his coughing.

‘Laksha kuthe hota tujha?’ (What were you so lost in?) Tanmaya said. She quickly got down to her knees and removed her water bottle from her bag. She offered it to Dhananjay. He took the bottle, but couldn’t stop himself from coughing, even enough to drink the water.

‘Oye yaar, take it easy!’ Niraj said. But Dhananjay’s coughing only got worse. I began rubbing his back.

‘I am sorry Dhananjay,’ I said. He looked at me; his eyes were blood-shot and watering from the excessive coughing. And just then I realised; he was having an attack.

‘Oh my God,’ Tanmaya said, as it struck her too. She went through his bag to find his inhaler, but it wasn’t there. Seems like he had forgotten that too. Dhananjay's coughing was now at its peak. He was gasping for air.

‘I’ll go check the dickey of his bike, it might be there in it,’ Niraj said as he sped off in the direction of our bikes. Meanwhile I and Tanmaya tried to reduce the coughing. But we didn’t know quite what to do. And just then, Dhananjay breathed in one last time, closed his eyes and fell to the ground.

Tanmaya froze.

I froze.

We kept staring at a motionless Dhananjay.

Just then Niraj cam back with the inhaler. He took one look at us, and the inhaler dropped out of his hand.

Suddenly Tanmaya burst into tears.

Niraj bent down on his knees and held her in his arms.

I just kept staring at Dhananjay… kept staring at his hair, his eyes, his lips… all things I was crazy about… all things that were now lifeless… dead.

I raised my hand and placed it on his heart. I ran it across his chest. I bent down and placed my head on his chest. I closed my eyes. I could still hear Tanmaya crying. My finger grabbed his t-shirt slowly… my fist growing stronger and stronger. I bit my lips. Slow and steady the tears started pouring out of my eyes.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my back. I looked up.

Dhananjay was staring at me.

I blinked. I turned around and looked at Tanmaya. She was standing now, and so was Niraj, right next to her.

I looked back at Dhananjay. And now, his eyes were wet.

‘You love me so much?’ he said.

I blinked, still not able to make head or tails of what was happening.

Dhananjay now sat up and leaned against the tree behind him.

‘It was a joke,’ he explained.

I looked at Tanmaya and Niraj. They nodded. I looked back at Dhananjay.

‘It was a joke,’ he repeated. ‘I talked Tanmaya and Niraj into it. When Tanmaya told me you liked me… I couldn’t believe it. Why would you want to be with a guy like me? Someone who has health problems and a medical history and all… So I decided to__’

‘Pucch hi lete ek baar. Mein bata deti,’ (You just had to ask me once. I would have told you.) I said and got up. I started walking toward our bikes. Dhananjay called out to me. I didn’t respond. I heard him get up. Tanmaya and Niraj chose not to follow him as he came after me. I started walking faster as I heard Dhananjay close up to me. He started walking faster too. Finally he ran up to me, and held me arm. He pulled me towards him.

‘I am sorry,’ he said.

I looked at him. And before I knew it, I had slapped him.

He looked back at me.

‘I am really__’

I slapped him again, this time on the other cheek.

He looked back at me. His eyes were welling up… fast. He took me by the arms and tried to pull me into an embrace. I tried to resist… but gave in finally, breaking out into tears.

‘I love you,’ he said.

I cried harder… but nodded. That’s all I could do really at that moment…






I stop here… but I smile as I realise I still haven’t told you one thing: I don’t believe in superstitions anymore, but I do believe in miracles…

THE MEETING

Just about two hours ago, I was an ordinary teenager, sitting in the canteen of her college, enjoying with her friends, and eyeing the few good-looking guys (read: extremely rare and almost endangered species) in the college as they came and went; and now, I was sitting in Barista, acting suave and grown-up, reading a book while I waited to meet him. Exactly after four years.

Recap.

We met. Became friends. Lost touch. Were back in touch (courtesy an old slam book and courtesy my efforts). He shifted to Bombay for higher studies. I still tried to remain in touch with him. One day I come to know he doesn’t really care to be in touch with me, and wouldn’t mind it (or maybe would be rather glad) if we didn’t talk, stay in touch.

I stopped contacting him.

But somewhere in the midst of all this, I fell in love with him. Truly. Madly. Deeply. And inexplicably.

Then why was I sitting in Barista waiting for him?

He was getting married.

Oh, didn’t I tell you? He is seven years older to me.

Yeah. Seven whole years older to me.

Still; why was I sitting in Barista waiting for him to come?

I couldn’t explain that myself. Jut about two hours ago I had received an SMS from him. Note: he still had my number.

But I tried to figure out whose number it was. Note: his number was not stored in my phonebook.

It may seem trivial, but this meant a lot. For me, a person who wasn’t in my phonebook was virtually dead.

The SMS read: ‘hi.m getin married on 2dec.u r invitd to d reception.venue central park junglee maharaj rd,time 7 to 9pm.pl b der.rgrds.’

My stomach lurched. And suddenly I placed the number; it was his number.

I had anticipated the arrival of this day so many times… and for so many days and months… and now that it was actually here, it numbed me. I was so totally unprepared. I didn’t know what to say!

‘hi.congrats.nice to hear frm u.thnx 4 d invitation.bt I dnt think I’ll b abl to mak it.of curs u knw,my wishes always wit u.’: my reply.

‘cm on.u hv to com.try n mak it.pl.’: his reply.

And I smiled. Laughed actually; a blushy girly laugh. And what I did next was totally mad; dumb, unexpected… incomprehensible. Unneeded.

I replied: ‘u hvnt chngd a bit.’

What was I thinking? Why did I have to do it? And then I knew he had changed! He had gone from the person I loved to the person I had come to utterly dislike now… I won’t say ‘hate’ because hate is a very strong word. I plead temporary insanity… no. Actually I plead nothing for getting myself into the situation I was in. But I guess, by that one SMS, he had transported me back to the time I was madly in love with him.

His reply: ‘bt u hv chngd a lot.’

My reply: ‘lemme assure u I hvnt.’

His reply: ‘hw abt letin me decide tht?coffee?1hr.barista.if u r free.’

My reply: ‘ok’

I don’t know what absurd moment it was when I agreed to meet him. God. Yes, I loved him. I mean, I used to love him. But I had just gotten out of him recently, of course with a lot of help from my old world friends, and this special friend… but more on that later. Anyway, so I had agreed to meet him within an hour, at a coffee shop I didn’t like, at a time I didn’t have coffee at, in a way I had never expected, and under circumstances I had never dreamt of.

Sigh.

I glanced at my watch for about the zillionth time. ‘Bridges On Madison County’ was propped open in front of me on the table, and for the first time, I wasn’t able to absorb into a book to get away from something. And just then I looked up; and I was staring at him.

Telepathy? Maybe…

Style check: he was wearing black jeans and a wine-red full-sleeved shirt, sleeves folded up to his elbow. Full marks. But… his hair was messy, his face was pimply, he had put on weight… God! I couldn’t help finding flaws in him. He had changed so much. And yet I had to go and type that SMS out and send it to him: ‘u hvnt chngd a bit.’ Mad. Totally mad!

But most of all, I noticed something that really ripped my heart out.

His smile was gone.

He spotted me and nodded. Wow! So he recognized me after all these years. But even as he smiled, I noticed yet again there was something strained about it; like he was making a Herculean effort to smile. I tried to smile back, but couldn’t. How? Why? What had happened? I kept wondering. He came and sat down at the table.

‘Hi!’ he said.

‘Hi…’ I replied.

‘Let’s order first and then talk,’ he said, and picked up the menu card. ‘I’m hungry.’

He went on to study the menu card, I studied him till then.

‘I don’t know,’ he said suddenly. ‘I never come here. You say, what do you want?’

‘I never come here either,’ I said. ‘But I guess espresso is the same everywhere. I’ll go for an espresso.’

‘Black coffee? You like black coffee?’ he asked, as if I had ordered for poison.

‘Yes, and without sugar,’ I added, quite bitterly too. Suddenly I was cursing myself for ever having agreed to meet him. The only thing I wanted to do was get up and leave. The hatred, the disgust… the hurt… it was all coming back, gushing into my mind with a force I couldn’t counter.

‘Hmmm… I didn’t know that....’ he said. A boy came to take our order. He placed the order. The boy left.

‘So… how is college? You are in, what… second year now?’ he asked.

‘Yes; and college is going great,’ I replied.

‘Modern right?’ he asked. Modern as in, the name of my college.

‘Yes,’ I replied.

‘And you are doing science I guess…’ he said. ‘An intelligent and talented girl like you would be wasted in commerce or arts.’

‘Yes I am doing science. But I do have second thoughts about my decision sometimes,’ I reply truthfully. ‘There are so many things I would have liked to do, if I had the time to.’

‘Like?’

‘Oh, like lots… drama, for starters; music, and maybe photography too.’

‘Which reminds, I saw your album on Orkut. It’s brilliant.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, just as our order came. I eagerly took a sip of my coffee and burnt my tongue.

‘Aaah!’ I exclaimed.

‘Careful!’ he exclaimed, and reached out to wipe my mouth with a tissue paper. I moved back. There was an awkward moment. I wiped my mouth and set the cup back on the table. I took a sip of water. Suddenly I saw he was smiling.

‘Ajunahi tashich ahes, wendhali,’ he remarked (You are still the same, careless.)

I kept quiet.

‘So where were we? Right! Photography. ‘

‘Yeah.’

‘I love the stuff you have put up on Orkut.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And drama you said?’

‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t know you had a liking for drama.’

‘I am an artist at heart after all… and drama has always fascinated me.’

‘But English drama doesn’t have much scope___’

‘Marathi drama I mean.’

‘Marathi drama? Wow! That’s great.’

Pause.

‘And what about painting? You used to sketch right?’ he asked.

‘Yes. But I realised it isn’t my cup of coffee.’

‘Strictly without sugar.’ He remarked, and for the first time, we both laughed together. Genuinely.

‘You tell me about yourself,’ I said. I was beginning to relax, just a little, but still…

‘Nothing yaar,’ he said. He tore the packet of sugar open and poured it into his cup. He picked up the spoon and stirred it. ‘Same old life.’

‘Yeah right. You are getting married and nothing’s new. Same old life.’ I said. He didn’t respond. I changed the topic. ‘How many days are you here?’ I asked.

‘Leaving today evening,’ he said. ‘Anyway, majha sod. (Forget about me.) You say yaar. What are you doing? I mean, what are your future plans like?’

‘Well, I will do my graduation in Microbiology.’ He raised his eyebrows at this. ‘And then, I will go abroad and complete post-graduation. I want to do research.’

‘Wow! That’s great… so I am sitting with a future scientist.’

I smiled.

Pause.

‘Mrunal please talk to me.’

My spoon fell out of my hands and right into the cup, sending small droplets of coffee flying around.

‘Oh God! I am so sorry…’ I said, as I took a tissue and wiped the coffee off his hand and mine. He waited for me to finish. I made as if I hadn’t heard him. He repeated: ‘Come on. Talk to me.’

‘I am talking to you,’ I said.

‘You are not.’

‘Come on, honestly. You are imagining things.’

‘Kunala banavtes Mrunal, mala?’ (Whom are you trying to fool Mrunal, me?)

Pause.

‘Why have you come to meet me?’ I finally came out of the closet and asked him the question I was burning to ask. And I can see he has been waiting to hear it too.

‘I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Talk to me about what? You didn’t want to be friends with me right? Mi sodla tula, (I left you) then what do you want to talk about now? Haven’t you had enough of me? God!’ I held my head in my hands. ‘Why did I even come to meet you…’ I said, in a low, tired voice. ‘This whole meeting is a bloody mistake…’ I blinked as I realised my eyes were welling up with big fat tears… and I thought I was done with crying over him, crying for him. He waited for me to compose myself. I could feel his gaze on me. I took my own sweet time. Finally I looked up, but not at him. I lifted my head and looked out the window. My eyes were still a bit watery. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his was feeling it… my pain, my anger. And somewhere… it stung him.

‘I wanted to tell you something,’ he said. ‘And I must tell this to you before I get married. Or I never will… I know I won’t.’ He took a deep breath.

‘Frankly, I don’t know where to begin. I have always imagined this moment, when I would tell it to you. But now that the moment is actually here, I don’t know what to say… When we were together at the fitness centre, I was aware of your feelings for me. I knew you used to like me. Even after I shifted to Bombay for studies and job and all, you still kept in touch with me. And every time we talked, I felt it. And I even felt you were trying to hide it. You were trying to not let it show. But, good or bad, I saw through it. I am a PRO after all… we are taught to read people’s body language as part of our training. So yes, you tried your best to hide it, but I found out anyway. And that is how I started avoiding you… But I am sure you think I started avoiding you because I didn’t want to be friends with you… because you were too small to be my friend, and I was embarrassed when you called in front of my friends. But its not so. The truth is…’ he paused; took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eye. ‘The truth is I was afraid of making a choice. I was afraid of taking a decision, of taking an action. And I regret it now.’

I was stunned. I looked at him. Right there, right then all I wanted was to get up and hug hum. I felt so many things at a time. I felt… naked. I felt insecure about the fact that someone knew me so well… and yet, it was heady. I was petrified and ecstatic at the same time. Was he implying that… that he loved me too? Even saying it to myself made me feel so strange.

‘Even if you don’t believe me, it’s true. I regret not having done what I wanted to do; not having done what felt and still feels, and will always feel the right thing to do. I can’t imagine what I put you through… and I just wanted to say, tujhyat kahich kami nahiye, mich kami padlo.’ (There is nothing lacking you, I was the deficient one.)

By now I had started crying… tears were rolling down my cheeks in a continuous stream. I imagined what life could have been if he had had the courage to come up to me and say yes he loved me too; and as I did, I realised what I had been deprived of; what we had both been deprived of.

‘I know this doesn’t help in any way, but I just had to tell you this. I knew I just had to. But if there is any way you could forgive me… I would be extremely humbled.’

But I realised… how could I blame him for not having the courage to speak up? Can you blame someone for not being strong enough to do something? Yes it hurt a lot. At one point, all I wanted to do was die or kill him. But was it really his mistake? Could he be held responsible for all that happened? It was neither his fault, nor mine. And in that one moment I realised how big the word ‘fate’ is. I used to think I was so terribly wronged. And here was a guy who, just because he didn’t have the courage to do something, was now asking me to forgive him; thinking it might be his ultimate penance. Who was I to forgive him?

But he deserved it.

‘Its ok,’ I said quietly, ‘I forgive you.’

And just then, just like that, he got up, hugged me, and said something I would have loved to hear before, something that would have satisfied my ego and made me immensely happy some time ago, but something which tore my heart from my chest now as he said it. He hugged me and said;

‘I am sorry.’