FRIENDS

Being in a city you hardly know – or one where hardly anyone knows you – can give you the kind of freedom where you can do things as simple as taking a walk with a guy at half past eleven in the night. It’s not like you are doing something rather blasphemous, neither is it that you are acting careless or being impulsive. But somehow you wouldn’t do that in your hometown.

On a particularly starry night, Falon was walking down an almost deserted road with her best buddy in this strange town she was only beginning to learn and like. She kept asking Aditya where they were going; but Aditya just kept on talking and kept on walking.

“Tum kitna sochti ho Falon!” (You think too much Falon) he exclaimed turning back to look at her. He kept walking backwards. “Aren’t you having a good time?”

“I am Aditya. I would have gone straight home from the restaurant if I wasn’t.”

“Then keep walking!” he said.

“Giroge,” Falon warned (You’ll fall).

“Nahi girunga,” Aditya said (No I won’t), and almost the next minute he had landed square on his butt.

Falon burst out laughing and gave Aditya a hand to get up.

“Ooouww,” Aditya moaned as he slowly got up. He took one look at Falon and immediately added – “I know you told me, don’t go and say it again.”

“Don’t wanna walk?” Falon said.

“Nah,” Aditya replied.

“Where were we going anyway?” Falon asked.

“Well, there is this kind of a playground close-by that kids in the neighbourhood use as a cricket-field. It’s just an open area actually, nothing great. But there are not too many trees and all, so the sky really looks beautiful from there. We could have gone and just sat for a while and…”

“And what?” Falon prompted.

Aditya reached inside his bag-pack and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“Oh come on! I can’t let you sit here after showing me that! We have to go! The place can’t be so far away now, can it? We’ve been walking for almost twenty minutes! And you –“

“Okay okay! We’ll go!” Aditya said, throwing his hands up. “Crack pot,” Aditya said and looked at Falon out of the corner of his eyes and ducked immediately. But Falon was just smiling.

“What? You’re not going to hit me?” Aditya questioned.

“I finally figured why you call me that,” she said.

“Pray! Do enlighten me,” Aditya teased.

Falon stepped closer. She leaned in till her mouth was right next to his ears and then answered – “It’s because I intoxicate you as much as one.”

Aditya kept looking at Falon. Suddenly Falon burst out laughing.

“Gotcha!” she said. “After all those straight-faced jokes of yours, I finally got back at you!” She kept stepping onto and off the footpath, like she were doing a little victory dance.

“But you are not far from the truth,” Aditya said. Falon stopped dancing and turned around to look at Aditya. Aditya walked up to her and took her hand in his.

“No matter how good you are sweetheart, the last one’s always mine,” he said, and winked at her.

“ADI! Not fair ya!” Falon said as she jerked his grip off. Aditya caught up and hugged Falon around her waist.

“Come on Falon,” he said, trying to make up to her. “Be a sport!” he teased, and soon enough they were both giggling like teenagers.

“I knew you were kidding,” Falon said, blushing only slightly.

“No, you didn’t. You totally fell for it,” Aditya said.

“Okay I admit, maybe for a moment I did. But I would never take it seriously for more than that! The concept of dating you is just so weird, so – so alien!” Falon added.

“I know, I know,” Aditya said – “Same to you!” he said and stuck his tongue out. Falon stuck hers out at him in response.

“Look at us! We are crazy!” Falon said.

“No, I am totally sane – but yes; if not you, your madness sure is intoxicating!” Aditya replied. They had reached the old rusty gate that guarded the playground from trespassers. Falon looked at the heavy padlock chained to the gate.

“Now what?” she asked.

“We climb, and then we jump!” Aditya said, securing his bag-pack on his back and began climbing up the gate. He reached the top and jumped onto the wall next to it. He turned around. Falon was merely staring at him.

“What, did you think there was gonna be champagne and red carpet to welcome you?” he said. “Come on! You can climb up! You’re wearing jeans!”

Falon handed her clutch to Aditya and climbed up the gate and sat next to Adi on the wall.

“Yahin baithate hai?” she suggested. (Let’s stay here?)

“Arre no ya! Let’s go to the centre of the playground! Trust me, you will love it,” Aditya said.

Falon turned to look at the ground and heaved a sigh. “I am so tired ya… please!”

“Moti! (Fatso!)What tired?” Aditya teased. “Come on!” and before Falon could say another word in protest, Aditya had jumped off the wall and started walking towards the centre.

“Saala mere ko moti kehta hai,” (You’re calling me fat, you dog!) Falon said jumping of the wall herself. “Ruk. Abhi dikhati hun.” (I’ll show you who’s fat.) She took off her jacket and tied it around her waist. She rolled up the sleeves of her white cotton blouse. She took a stance and called out to Aditya.

“ADI!”

Aditya stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to look at Falon.

“HERE I COME!”

And the next moment Falon was racing towards Aditya. Aditya recovered from the initial shock and started running himself. He huffed and puffed as he saw Falon come from behind him and dash ahead of him, and before he knew it, she had reached the centre of the ground!

Aditya slowed down as he saw Falon do her little victory dance again. He covered the rest of the distance in a slow-jog.

“So who’e the fatso, eh?” Falon said.

“Hey, you’re a trained athelete, okay? I am a commoner! You should appreciate I even tried to race you,” Aditya said as he kneeled down on the ground. Falon kneeled next to him and immediately started tugging at his bag-pack.

“Come on now. You shouldn’t keep a girl waiting for so long for a drink! All that walking and running’s made me thirsty!”

Aditya laughed as he let Falon pull his bag off his back and watched her as she opened the wine bottle. A couple of big gulps later she realised the oddness of the whole thing. “Why do you have a wine bottle on you anyway?”

“Because we were going to meet at your place initially? And because it is good manners to take a bottle of wine when someone calls you over for dinner.”

“Since when did ‘manners’ become so important to you?”

“Since now,” he said and pulled his bag out of Falon’s hands. He pulled out a small gift neatly wrapped in plain blue paper with an ink blue coloured ribbon on it. He held the gift out to Falon and said “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Falon looked at her watch. It was mid-night. Falon just kept staring at her watch. “How did you know?” she asked without looking up.

“I’d asked you, you’d told me a long time back!” Aditya exclaimed.

“No I meant – how did you think of doing all this? Mid-night, wine, new-moon, blue wrapping…”

“Well, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

Falon still kept staring at her watch and refused to look up. Aditya moved closer to her and held up her face. He saw a tear trickle down Falon’s cheek.

“Falon.”

“No! It’s ok. I’m alright,” Falon said, readily rubbing her cheeks clean. She held out her hand, and Aditya placed the gift in it. She untied the ink blue ribbon and the paper unfolded. Falon took one look at the little black box and knew what was inside. She handed the box back to Aditya. “I would like you to put it on me,” she said.

Aditya smiled and opened the box. He took the silver chain out, closed the box and set it on the ground. Falon quickly picked it up and dusted it.

“Oho! Niche kyun rakha? (Why did you put it down?)”

Aditya held his ears.

Falon smiled and turned her back to Aditya. She pulled her hair onto one side. Aditya carefully held the chain in place and tightened the clasp. Falon turned around and looked down at the pendant – a pair of small silver dolphins, with diamonds as eyes.

“This is just perfect Aditya,” Falon said.

“What, are you kidding me? The bottle’s not even half empty!” Aditya said, and they were giggling all over again. Aditya looked at Falon for a moment, and then lay down on his back. “Lie down,” he urged Falon. “You’ve got to check out the view.”

Falon removed her jacket from around her waist and laid it on the ground so as to not spoil her white blouse. She lied down and exclaimed almost immediately.

“This is lunatically beautiful!”

Aditya laughed.

They laid there for a while, both not saying a word. The summer air was not cold, but was far from hot too. They laid there for a while, both talking about myriad things – their first birthdays, their latest crushes, the last movie they’d seen together, the worst New Year’s Eve they’d had, the one time in their lives when they felt nothing was impossible… after a while they were just staring at the sky… the clear, moonless, starry sky.

“That,” Falon said, pointing out to a star, “is the Orion.”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ve always loved that name, ‘Orion’. If I have a daughter someday, I’m gonna name her Orion.”

“Orion. But you know Orion is ‘The Hunter’, right?”

“Is it?” Falon asked, quite surprised. “I didn’t know that!”

Aditya laughed. “Funny you want to christen your girl with a name you do not even know the meaning of!” Aditya remarked.

“Aye! It’s still a beautiful name! And I will name my daughter that someday…”

“I hope you do also know that to have a daughter you need to be married; to a man no less…” Aditya remarked again. Falon hit him on his stomach. “Ooouww!” he exclaimed.

“Come on! It’s not like I am never going to get married!”

“I know honey, I am only teasing…”

Falon suddenly put her arm around Aditya and hugged him.

“Ha! You cry and I want to hug you, and you verbally push me away. And now you hug me. Why can’t I push you away?”

“Who said no? Of course you can. But do you really want to?” Falon challenged, and Aditya only put an arm around Falon in response. They stayed like that for a moment, and then Falon got up and sat, leaning against Aditya’s legs.

“You know Aditya, I was really grateful when we became friends. There’s a certain age that we all cross in life, after which there’s hardly ever a guy who approaches you because he wants to be nothing more than just a friend. They all are always attracted to you, and so want to become your friend in the hope of becoming a lover sometime down the line. What makes it ugly is when they realise it’s not gonna work out. Then they cut you off like you never existed. Whatever happened to friendship? Sometimes I hate this whole ‘love’ funda. It’s like, there’s a guy and a girl, they are best friends, till they become teenagers, and then they get attracted to each other. In the beginning its all weird cos, they are like best buddies till then. And then they get all infatuated, and start to think it’s ‘love’, and then they start dating, going out, till one of them finally grows up or – luckily – both of them do. But then it’s even weirder, cos now every time they meet each other as friends, they think about the times when they were sweethearts… and then they just, kind of, let it die.”

Falon paused. Aditya waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. Finally he prompted her –

“What was his name?”

“Rohan.”

“Hmmm.”

There was another long pause.

“I am just so glad that’s never gonna happen between us,” Falon said finally. “Sometimes that’s all that you want – a best friend.”

“Correction,” Aditya interrupted. “You may get tired of a brother, an aunt, your mother, even love for that matter – or love even more so. But no matter what, that’s something you will always want – a best friend.” Pause. “That was a good line!”

Falon applauded and held up the bottle.

“It was a mighty good one!” she exclaimed.

They mingled for a little longer and talked about some more random stuff after that. They then walked back to the restaurant, in front of which they had parked their bike. They held hands while walking, on their way back, and it wasn’t weird at all. It was the most comfortable feeling in the whole world…








*Author’s Note: A lot of people wonder quite often how girls sometimes find it easier to talk to boys than other girls. A lot of people ridicule and even deny accepting friendship between a guy and a girl as just friendship and nothing else. This piece is to celebrate exactly that – friendship. It is to celebrate the kind of comfort you have with your best friend that you don’t with any other person in the world. This piece is for all those who have – at least at some point of time, even as briefly as for a moment – valued friendship. This piece is for those unselfish people in your life who like you for what you are, not what you can be; for those people who you can call even only once in a year and still share the same warmth and connect as you used to in your hey-days… this one’s for you, my Friend. Even as cliché as it sounds, life’s truly is beautiful cos you’re a part of it.

THE MEMORY

The power of the human brain or mind – I don’t know which is it exactly – to associate certain things or situations with certain people or places is so strong that it amuses me sometimes, and almost makes me wish it weren’t so…

… that movie which always makes you think of your best friend, no matter the place where you are watching the movie, or the time of the day at which you are watching it…

… or that fragrance that you associate with those cold winter mornings when you used to go for an early morning walk…

… or that song that reminds you of a love that was never meant to be…

You associate every minute detail of that memory with the person or the place that they remind you of – though it may not always hold true. You see your friend in place of the protagonist in the movie; you suddenly start to feel cold, even though it isn’t cold that day, and you wish that someone special meant the words of that song for you and only you, almost as if he wrote it for you…

And then you almost instantly wish you had not remembered… you wish you had forgotten all about it…

On a particularly neutral night, 2572 songs playing on shuffle mode, and the one song that still manages to send chills up and down my spine plays… and I freeze. I do not turn it off. I do not turn it up. I just keep staring at my laptop, and the song keeps playing… an agonising seven minutes fifty-six seconds long song… it just keeps playing…

… and then that particular line that I still so strongly associate with him…

I close my eyes – and I am in that small studio apartment again, in his arms, underneath that teddy-bear blanket, content – though not comfortable maybe, sharing one small mattress on a cold winter evening…

I almost feel my stomach knotting as it all comes back so strongly as nothing can ever bring it back.

I open the folder containing the song. I right click on it – but I just can’t bring myself to delete it…

It is the only song in my library that is in .m4a format…

It is the only song by that artist in my library…

It is the only thing that’s proof that he is not just a character from one of my stories but was for real; that he really happened to me.

He has vanished off the face of my life.

I do not have his number.

I do not remember his e-mail address.

I do not remember any contact detail…

But I don’t know if I should be glad about it or not…

‘It would be nice to listen to his voice again’, I think, only to realise I have forgotten what he sounds like…

‘It would be nice to know what he is doing now’, I think, only to realise he is not even in the same city any more…

So many things forgotten…

And then why do I still associate this song with him?

It is a pity I will never appreciate the song ever again in my life – for I cannot listen to it and NOT think about him…

And the thought of him – ah! It pains! The pang is deep, the pang is genuine… the pang is proof that he is not just a character from one of my stories but was for real; that he really happened to me.

How is it that a single song or a single movie is able to recreate the mood, the feeling, and the state of mind that is now a thing of the past, to such a minute detail?

I almost rub my sides, in fearful anticipation of finding his arms still wrapped around me… but I feel my own touch, and I don’t know if I am glad or sad that it’s only me… that hereon it will always be only me… that the memory will never be complete…

Dhadkan yeh mere dilki… puchhe re tere dil se… ke sach-much kya hai tu duniya mein?

BLINDED BY THE MUNDANE

Today I appeared for the last internal theory exam of the semester, and probably of my life. From the waking moment of the day, I was feeling rather anxious. I tried to place cause and effect in order, but couldn’t. I decided to stop thinking about it and to concentrate on the exam that lay ahead.

The hour of the exam came and went – but the feeling remained. After the exam, we went to the college canteen and sat down to snack a little. We started talking about all the usual topics – a project that had finally come to an end, a thesis that was finally in hand, a college that we were finally going to get out of, a staff that we would finally not have to bear everyday… though many of the things we said were exaggerated, many of them were even true. I went and submitted a copy of my thesis at the institute where I did my thesis project – and on the way I realised this was probably the last time I was going to that place too; the last time I was driving down that road (for I have nothing else that would take me on that course again); the last time I was going to pass by those colourful teddy bears that a small family sold on the street; the last time I was going to wish I could just drive further down the road and go visit my friend who lives close by (for now I actually can do it when I want, and not just keep wishing I could).

And I realised that was where my nervousness was coming from – that finality in the day today.

Everything was coming to an end, one after the other – like the chapters of a book.

Since school I had been sure about what I wanted to do – science stream in 11-12th; graduation in Microbiology after that; post graduation after that… and now suddenly I didn’t know what lay ahead, or what I wanted to do.

It was a hilarious moment when suddenly Shahid Kapoor flashed in my mind – running alongside white horses in Kaminey.

That’s kinda how I felt at that moment – and there is only little exaggeration in the statement.

For the first time on my way back from the institute today, I noticed 6 different trees in full bloom in the middle of summer. I also noticed a dhobhi-ghaat by the banks of the river which I drove over every day. I drove by at 30kmph from the institute to my house, and it took me 45 minutes. But I didn’t feel the need to hurry to anywhere today. I was on my own. I could go home when I wanted. I could NOT go home if I wanted. There was no one expecting things off me – time, punctuality, results, reports, answers, marks, nothing.

I was free.

The realisation was one full of relief and fear; relief because now I had a lot of free time, fear because I had not a clue about how I was going to spend it.

It was something like what Budd says to Elle – now that your enemy is dead, which is the greatest ‘R’ you feel, relief or regret? People who have a job tend to live longer. Now that your enemy is dead, what are you going to do?

At the dinner table a couple of days back, I said I’d have been better off in Arts rather than in the field of Science, to which Dad said – don’t say that; science always helps you develop as a person. Now you have your whole life to do what you want to do.

But I am not sure if I am happy about the fact, or not.

In fact I am not sure about what I feel about it at all!

I have always wanted to do a lot of things – learn to play the piano, take dance lessons, know how to read people’s handwriting, go on a holiday, travel, write, work on my photography skills. But I never did them saying I didn’t have time. And now that time is here, I don’t know how I feel about spending it on doing each of these things… cos I was brought up to believe that these things can be done at any point in life, now is the time to make your life, to make a career, to make somebody of yourself. But isn’t now also the time to do insane stuff with friends, act crazy, have a booze party, fall in and out and in love again, keep secrets, keep promises…?

I sometimes look back and feel like all I have done in the past five years is earn two degrees and get a distinction. I know the statement is largely not true, but it also is true to some degree. Where has been the time to even meet friends, forget doing stuff together?

Life, time, moments – they always pass you by. And you can’t expect things to slow down just because you are too busy. But what you can do is not let life ALWAYS pass you by. Spend time with yourself, spend time with your friends, spend money on yourself, pamper yourself, and get yourself that ridiculously expensive watch or dress if you really want it!

Sometimes we only have to shift by a few degrees to understand and enjoy what’s been served to us better – after all tequila sucks without lemon!

THE BLACK ROSE

I wonder what it is like to be an ordinary girl sometimes, with an ordinary house, an ordinary family, a father with an ordinary job – basically a job. I see girls around me with a lot less than what I have, but they have something I will probably never have.

It’s always been this way – from school times too. But then back in school, no one knew who I was. I was just a classmate, a friend, and several boys had a crush on me. I remember the names of a few of them, faces of few others. But there is no one I remember as much as Tony. I still have a picture of the two of us together, with me holding his collar and he holding my plaits. I even had one of both of us together at our Prom; but I trashed that one away… it looked too formal, and fake, though I know it was nothing more than the awkwardness of standing next to your first crush. He used to always dress shabbily. He lived only a few minutes away from school and used to pedal down on his cycle everyday – and yet he always managed to get spoil his uniform before he even entered class. I used to like him too.

But of course, with time, we grew out of it.

I used to see my father only occasionally. He was never home every night. But he used to be home every Sunday – and he used to turn every Sunday into a mini-holiday for me. We would have breakfast at Bakers Inn, the owner being father’s childhood friend. Then we would go buy me something father called ‘Gift of the Week’ – and it could be anything from as small as a pencil to as big as a doll house; anything I pleased. And father would always find reasons to buy me the gift, so that I never felt like it was unnecessary and also never took it for granted. Once he brought Brownie home in a nice little wicker basket just because I had been a good daughter and had helped mother out in the garden. I remember getting up to being licked all over my face, and how my surprised yelp had sent Brownie off into fits of barking. I had carried him to school with me that day, and back from school, and then to my friend’s place, and back from there, and he always slept with me on my bed ever since his first day in our house. I had been very sad when he had passed away, but that was one of the best weeks of my life – as father was home every night.

I grew up and started to understand little by little that my father was someone very important. Now that I know who he is and what it is to be me, I sometimes wonder how mother and all the house servants managed to keep me away from it – but they did. Father did try and provide me with an ordinary life – but a couple years into my teens, and I knew nothing was ever going to be ordinary again.

I passed out of school, and my admission had already been secured in the best college in the city. I had lots of friends in college, right from the first day – but I had grown up enough to know they were friends of my chauffeur-driven car, my huge house, and my pocket money more than me. But I was always on guard and never let any one of them get too close to me – something I learnt from father.

But I was a teenager after all – and love soon caught me round the corner one day, and Rafael entered my life. He never tried to control me – as I had been warned some boys would want to by my girl friends. He didn’t even try to know more about me – as some over inquisitive boys had wanted. And he never ever, not even once, tried to kiss me or make a pass at me – as almost every boy in college had tried to. And I don’t know if it was this that drew me into him, or just the fact that I was ordinary when I was with him.

But I lost Rafael – even as a friend – when one of the boys in college went missing after having followed me home one evening after classes.

And I guess I knew right then – that I was never going to be an ordinary girl.

A lot of things about me have changed since that incidence.

I have lost most of my girl friends and all of my boy friends.

And my chauffeur-driven car is now tagged by another car and two bikes in the front and at the back.

I can almost feel an invisible bubble around me. Everybody maintains a five foot radius around me. Nobody sits next to me during classes. Nobody hangs out with me. A few true friends have managed to stick around though. They come attend every party and every function in our family, and I am grateful to have them. But there is a certain void that gets created in your life when you become a certain age and do not experience the things that that age brings along with it. And I feel that void every year on Valentine’s Day.

When you are who I am, people are always going to treat you with a lot of respect, and they are always going to be happy to help you and show gratitude in whatever way they can, and they are always going to feel obliged even when all you do is greet them. Your paper work is never going to get stuck, because there is never going to be any paper work. Your car is never going to be towed, because there is never going to be a no-parking zone for you. You are never going to buy anything at its original price because there is always going to be a discount on everything all year round. When you are who I am, everybody wants to be you – but they don’t want to be with you, or are afraid of being with you. Everybody wants a rose, but no one wants a black one – even if it is a rose after all.

There may be a lot of things about me, and about my life that people around me may crave for, may feel like they could give anything for – respect, command, loyalty of the people around, money of course, and perhaps power. But there is one thing that a Mafia daughter can never have, and it is probably the single most important thing to any girl in her life.

A Mafia daughter can never have love.

I GOT 20/-

I had a chat with one of my friends today… after a really long time. He is someone I genuinely like, but also someone I genuinely hate! We quarrel more, and more often, than we talk; and we always joke about it. It’s a funny friendship I have with him – but he is a good guy, and I like him.

It is almost after a couple months that we spoke to each other… and within minutes we were arguing about some hypothetical question. But this time the conversation got a little more personal than hypothetical, and things kind of went out of hands.

Eventually we did sort it out, and ended the conversation on a happy note, but – the obsessive, compulsive over thinker that I am – I kept thinking about our conversation for the rest of the day. Like the backdrop of a stage, my mind kept coming back to it again and again, after all the thoughts had vanished from the foreground. I left the house in the same state, and forgot my bike keys inside after I had pulled the door close. Then I realised I had forgotten my wallet as well, and the keys to the house along with it. I checked my pant pockets and found I had about fifty bucks. I decided to take a rickshaw to college.

I met all my classmates on reaching the department… after many days we were all happy and laughing and tension free, now that exams were over. We went to the canteen and decided to rob one of our friends of all her money – she owed us too many a treat and hadn’t given any! We all decided to settle the account.

‘Arre yaar, aaj mere paas sacchi itne paise nahi hai!’ she tried to explain – ‘I got only twenty!’

But we still kept on teasing her and asking her for a treat.

And in that moment I realised – isn’t that about how unreasonable we act sometimes?

We expect time from someone who is busy.

We expect co-operation from the least friendly colleague.

We want love from someone who takes us only as a friend.

We want someone who loves talking to sit quietly and listen to us.

My mom always says – each person gives only that what he has. I used to never understand her when she used to say that – but now I know.

There are so many kinds of people we meet every day – look around and you may find that namuna who is always happy, that person who is always alone, who is always sad, or who is always lost. There was a phase when I used to be always angry. My friends used to say – you lose your temper too quickly now-a-days.

When I look back, I now realise that at that point of time, I was going through a lot of things that I had absolutely no control over. It was like I was being pulled into situations which I wanted to avoid and there was nothing I could do about it – and it made me angry. The fact, or its realisation, that I had no control over what was happening to me and no way to make it right made me angry, and my anger lashed out at people near me.

But do we realise this when we see it happening around us?

We are very quick at jumping to conclusions –

‘Oh she has changed, she is just so moody now-a-days.’

‘I don’t know what’s wrong; he was never like this before.’

But do we ever stop and think “why” this is happening?

A person who is hurt, hurts others.

A person who is angry, lashes out at others.

A person who does not hang out with others is in fact feeling very lonely and outcast himself.

A person who is bitter has someone being bitter to him.

It is almost always like this.

Each person gives only that what he has.

If you see such people around you and if they are someone you know or like or care for, go talk to them; sit down next to them; chat with them; ask them if they want to share what they are going through with you.

Help them.

Genuinely help them.

And help them in a way that suits them – not in a way that you think is right. Don’t help them for your sake – to make you feel good; for that help is no help.

It is not too difficult to pick on someone who is going through a tough time – unless that person is really good at masking his or her true feelings. And even such people break down at some point of time.

No one wants someone who is always rude, or moody, or upset, or fussy, or angry around them – but if that someone is your friend, don’t abandon him, for that only adds to their pain. Talk to him.

Pouring your heart out does not always mean loving the person, being caring, being affectionate and being nice – as much as these feelings, it is also the heart only that is home to feelings like hurt, anger, exertion, disappointment. Don’t choose people by their behaviour towards you, for that is going to change with their state of mind and with the state of affairs in their lives; choose people for the what they are after all these feelings have washed off and faded away… for that is the true nature that lies at the heart of that person.

Every person is capable of some good in life – and no one who is distressed deserves to be abandoned by his friends.

If someone got only twenty, he will give you only twenty. Don’t say – oh he won’t even give me a fifty, I don’t like him. Remember the times he gave you more than you wanted – and be grateful for it, for we may never know when roles reverse and we are on the other side, only hoping and wishing crazy that our friends understand us and support us.

The good and the bad are both you – don’t be ashamed of it.

And always remember – someone who can’t handle your worst, doesn’t deserve your best.

A RACE AGAINST TIME

I came across a bunch of forgotten photo albums while cleaning up my mom’s dressing table today afternoon, and it was such a joyride! Me in specs, big fat round ones, that made my eyes look funny; and sporting clothes reminiscent of times and fashion statements that are ancient now – balloon sleeves, two long pony tails, and a skirt that went below my knees but floated above the ground. Sure I looked like a disaster! But those pictures did manage to bring a smile on my face.

After that, I took out the bag of photo albums from under my bed and went through those pictures too, like I have on so many afternoons before, and like I will on so many more – for I never tire of looking at those pictures. I saw myself growing up through the pictures… a baby, yawning away as Mom kissed my forehead; a toddler, waving to Dad from the floor as he left for office; a kindergarten student, clapping her hands and dancing to the tune of Tu Cheez Badi Hai Mast Mast (yes, I admit, I used to love that song as a kid!); a schoolgirl, cutting the cake on her birthday with all her classmates around her; a teenager, with her best friend on a pajama-party night…

And then somewhere in between I disappeared totally from almost all the pictures… and it was just Mom, Dad, Atya, my sisters and brothers, relatives, my nephew, and everybody else – except me. Everyone laughing, sharing stories, telling jokes, just like always… but I was missing. I caught my head, or my hair in one or two pictures; but that was it.

I didn’t realise it until a tear had fallen on the one of the pictures that I was crying. I looked at all the get-togethers and dinners and parties and functions I had missed – because I was too busy studying for some exam, or completing journals and submissions and assignments. I felt very virtuous at the time – felt like I was being responsible and doing the right thing. Sure my relatives were all always proud of all my achievements, and so was I, I guess.

But looking at those pictures reminded me of times that I had let go by, and that didn’t look like they were going to come back. I miss my cousins, I miss my aunts and uncles, I miss all of them, and all the fun times we used to have together – the PPPJs, the ghost stories, the college affairs (that they used to try and hide from me, cos I was too young n all, but that I did learn about anyway!) and so many other things…

I looked at those pictures and thought – why had I let these moments slip out of hand? Why had I missed that get-together? Why had I opted out of that party?

It wouldn’t have hurt if I had scored a little less on that test.

It certainly would not have harmed if I had not attended college on that Monday.

It would not have mattered if I had reached late for practicals that day.

But I was brought up to be like this – responsible, punctual, dutiful, a good student, a good daughter – and that is how I have lived my life so far.

But do you call this ‘living’?

I do not want to suggest that the above qualities are not virtue – they no doubt are. But are these virtues more important than spending time with your family, or making merry with your friends, or just having a good time?

Just the other day I saw a trailer of some movie, and one of the dialogues hit me stark in my face –

Life mein kabhi kuchh galat kiya?

And I realised – no, maine kabhi life mein kuchh galat nahi kiya tha…

I keep telling Mom – loosen up, let go, ease out, relax, it’s alright if you don’t do one out of a hundred things, it’s ok if you don’t do the laundry today, it’s ok if you don’t cook today, it’s alright if you sleep till late today, it’s fine if the milk spills over before you could take it off the burner… but I wish I had realised the same a few years ago… that it was ok for me to not be punctual all the time, that it was ok for me to bunk my tuitions and go for a movie someday…

We often let virtues get bigger than people…

We give up on family, friends, and relationships even for our careers, for our jobs, for a better life, for money…

But this is not just about that…

This is about not letting virtues define your existence – you did not come in this world to be perfect.

Spend time with your loved ones…

Laugh from the bottom of your heart…

Love like you’ve never been hurt…

Dance like no one’s watching…

And live each day like it’s the last day of your life – you wouldn’t want to be sitting in front of a computer and working, or mugging up chemistry formulas, or making balance sheets if it was the last day of your life, right?

And this is not because ‘kya pata kal ho na ho’… but because it is worth it, creating all those memories… they will run for your rescue in ways least expected, and you shall be grateful to them at some point of time in life…

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.