Love, Unrequited [Thread 2 : Pg 140] - Page 56

39. Ae Khwab Hai Mushkil

‘Kirti, have you started with your new job?’ Mayank’s mother asked, her head covered and hands folded in prayer as the priest chanted the last of the mantras. The white of talcum powder was visible now, as it stuck to her face in the humid room. Her dyed hair had been pulled back from her face and tied into a careless bun at her neck.

‘Not officially, Ammaji. I had taken a demo class before the coaching closed for Diwali vacations. I will be starting from next Tuesday.’ 

Kirti after opening the windows wide, and tucking away the curtains, had come to sit next to her. The Homa fire’s smoke had filled the whole house, tearing up everyone, irritating their throats and nose.

‘Once you join the class, can you spread the word that we are looking for a renter? The terrace room, you must have seen. It is quite spacious with a bathroom attached. These students are on a lookout for PGs no?’ She was offering ghee dipped wood chips into the blazing fire.

‘I will let them know, Ammaji.’ Kirti’s entire attention was on her grandmother who was crossing and uncrossing her legs, her struggle for a comfortable position continuous. Sitting down for hours must cause strain to her legs. Biplab had even brought her chair to sit on but since the prayer was about to end, Karuna had shifted to the mat on the floor.

She had been thinking for days to take her grandmother for an Ayurvedic therapeutic massage. The week being off at work, she would have to take an appointment this week itself. Biplab would help her convince Dadi. Kirti stood up as the priest announced ‘Aarti’.

XxxX

‘How does it make you feel, Kirti?’ Shruti was plating the prasad bhog in leaf donas/bowls. 

‘I felt bad for Tejas and disappointed in Sana and by Tejas’ family’s apathy.’ Kirti sprinkled flour powder on the area of the fireplace, the floor side where the square hawan kund had been set up. She had removed the sand and swept away with hands the ashes of the wood and other burnt materials. The floor had become greasy because of the use of clarified butter and using wheat flour was a hack her granny had taught her long back.

‘But you had been so heartbroken after Tejas’ wedding news. Now, does it make your heart flutter with hope?’

‘Shruti! What do you take me to be?!’

‘No need to overreact. I am just asking…’

‘Don’t! I am not such a lowly being!’

‘What’s there to be a low being? You had feelings for him. It does not evaporate just because the other person is getting married. I wouldn’t blame you if a tiny miny part of you is rejoicing that he’s free again. It’s not like you brought about the cancellation of the marriage.’

‘No part of me is rejoicing, Shruti! I hope they resolve their problems soon. No loving couple should go through this.They must have weaved a future for themselves.’

‘Are you sure, you are not relieved that he’s single again? You can confess to him now.’

‘Why would I confess? Now that I think about it, I am glad the confession never happened.’

‘Glad? So you no longer love him?’

‘I love him, obviously. But let it be a secret longing. I am more comfortable in loving from afar.’

‘So basically you don’t love him but want to be content with the idea of loving a person. A safe and comfortable choice. I am sure the marriage cancellation must have thrown a wrench into your pining business.’ 

‘Why didn’t you take psychology, your calling?’ Then, looking at her friend, she said, ‘I am sorry, Shruti,  that I am no Lord Hanuman who can tear open my heart to show you who resides in it or what my exact feelings are for him.’

‘He does not reside in your heart in a lover’s capacity, surely. One cannot be so giving - I want him to marry her. They must be so sad - and understanding when it comes to heart’s business.’

‘Why? Should not one be happy if their love of life is happy? Does one have to be a scheming bitch all the time? What is this, anyway? Aap Ki Adalat? What are you playing at? Do you see me asking such probing questions about your love life?’

‘You will ask, baby, but let me find my Fahad Faasil first. What probing questions you can have now about my non-existent love life?! I don’t have squad leaders making me wait in their offices and then insist on being invited categorically by me. I wish you could tear open and show, if this Moody Aggarwal inhabits any of the small pockets there.’

A handful of flour was thrown at her.

‘Such overly displays of emotion. Tsk..Tsk,’ Shruti shook her head as she flicked off the flour flecks that had settled on her shoulders. ‘Han Bhai, all this flour dust is our kismet. After all we don’t have ‘classmates’ sharing their stardust with us.’

‘You just wait, Shruti. Now I am not going to share a word with you.’

‘Haha. Try all you want. You know you can’t do that.’ 

Kirti could. She had. She did not share a secret when she was of the mind.

She hadn’t told Shruti how her skin had crawled when Tejas had glanced at her lips. It must have been a weak moment for him and she did not wish to make small of his character in front of others. Only her being at his side must have confused his feelings for her. He was Sana’s and she would respect him better if he remained loyal to his fiancee notwithstanding the status of their engagement. 

Her skin recoiling when he had been intimately intertwining their fingers had also brought back past memories. Her doubts about herself. So much she had not shared with Shruti. As long as Tejas had touched her as a friend she had been fine. The moment her body had sensed his changed intent, it had begun to show it’s true nature.

‘Kirti, I have been wondering this for a while now suppose Tejas proposes a marriage to you then?’

‘Then what?’ Kirti did not believe it was ever going to happen. Picking up the broom, she began to sweep away the flour that was now a little heavier having soaked up the ghee.

‘What would you do?’

‘What would you do? Would you be okay becoming a second choice of someone?’ Kirti countered.

‘It does not have to be seen as a second choice. If I find any guy now, does it mean I will see him as a second choice? It’s all about making mistakes, being late in realizing what you want and then after years or trials finding the one who is really the one for you. So suppose he realises you are the one for him, and he proposes a marriage then?’

A bent Kirti who was accumulating the flour dust in a shovel, stood straight and pretended to think for a few seconds.

‘You know this is so unreal a situation that my mind refuses to process it. All the times I had dreamt about confessing to him, in the most optimistic of those dreams - he accepting my proposal and we hugging each other had been the limit of it. Even in my thoughts have I never crossed the threshold beyond confession.’

‘Cross the threshold now. Imagine if he proposes then what?’ Shruti questioned.

‘Have you watched Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, Shruti? The Suraj Hua Maddham song? The last of the lyrics, remember? Jalta rahe suraj, chand rahe maddham...ye khwab hai mushqil...na mil sakenge hum...the Chandni Chowk girl knows her reality. It is one thing to dream about romancing the rich guy in the lands of pyramids. But requires a really stubborn head to think that she would be able to have a life with the guy. Rahul was okay sacrificing Anjali for his family. If not for her father passing away, they would have never gotten married. And, if the cost of marrying the love of your life is losing a parent. Thank you very much, I am good as a single.’

‘Such an overthinker you are. I mean people watch a movie, enjoy the songs and move on. Nobody sits and dissects it like this, making real life parallels with it.’

‘There’s no future with these guys, Shruti. No future. Dadi says, some things are better suited in one’s own circle. Had you been an officer now, would you and I have been able to have such an open conversation? We sit together now because we see each other as equals. Just a slight change in our circumstances and there would crop up time constraints, inferiorities, insecurities and hesitations. A marriage between two mismatched families in the same way does not last. They have been born into wealth and I have only seen struggles. We will never see an eye to eye.’

‘They?’ Trust Shruti to gloss over every other detail. ‘I was only talking about Tejas. Does Nishit come as a 1+1 free offer? Or has he skyjacked your thoughts that you can’t stop thinking about him?’

‘Shruti, do me a favour? There’s no point denying that I do have a lowkey crush on him. When and if he comes tonight, see that I don’t go overboard and embarrass myself. How I wish I was like my father! He had loved only one woman his entire life!’

‘How are you so sure he loved only one woman? The parents we adore and put on pedestals in our young age, very often turn out to be as common and erring an individual as us.’ Shruti’s father, Pareekutty lived in Kerala in a small village, refusing to leave his home despite his wife’s and daughter’s constant coaxing. Sandy having grown up in Mumbai did not want to leave the city of dreams, the sea of hope. Her husband, in love with his rustic fields and a fisherman both at heart and profession lived by the smell of sea, and did not compromise either. He did not want to leave behind his gulls and curlews, his fishes. Caught between the two tides, Shruti grew up hoping for a reconciliation one day. 

‘Maybe. But as far as my memory serves me, my father continued to turn down alliances, because none of them were his Urmila. My love is fickle, Shruti. It is nothing like his. One moment I express my love for Tejas, the other moment I confess my crush for his cousin. How different then I am from Sana? Or all the other girls who I have judged harshly in the past? There are people - I hope and believe there are - who love only once and then spend their entire lives living by it. It is them who are canonized in the world of love and who continue to preserve the sanctity of love.’

‘But Kirti, imagine how sad it is to be able to love only once! If under any unfortunate circumstances your love remains unfulfilled... unrequited, the love that must liberate you, the same love becomes a prison. No, I do not agree with you. Where will betrayed people like us be? No, one must have the capacity to love and trust again and again. The show  must go on just as life goes on.’ 

40. Dance Away With Me 

It seemed all of Kirti’s reservations had been for nothing. The guy did not arrive and neither did the moment when Shruti would have to check Kirti’s demonstrative behaviour around him. Had not, at least, until now. And it was a quarter to eight.

It hurt. Rejection always did.

Kirti was an expert at dealing with rejections but the feeling that someone had kicked her gut hard was new and required time and care which she could not afford right now. So, pasting an ebullient smile on her lips, she brought out the milk cake, setting it down on a square center table. Karuna did not like bread and cream - in short any sort of baked goods - hence this cake.

Sibin and other neighbourhood kids had gathered around the table, some trying to touch the cake and getting their hands swatted away by Biplab as he planted a candle in the middle of the cake, some others exercising better restraint. Radha was one such kid. Dangling from the corner of the table, wearing a frock, and butterfly clips in her hair, she only stared at the sweet delicacy thinking how very different it was from her own ribow cake.

‘These kids! What business does a cake have here? Everybody will laugh that I am at this age going through these ceremonies!’ Karuna was both delighted and embarrassed at all the attention she was getting.

‘Nobody will laugh!’ Biplab thundered and warned. ‘And those who plan to talk behind my sweet Dadi, please book your chairs right now.The offer is limited and expires tonight 11: 59 pm.’

Everybody clapped and cheered as Karuna cut the cake. Mayank and his father singing, ‘Baar baar din yeh aaye…’

Dressed in a coral pink sari, her face glowing - the consequence of Sandy’s massage or unadulterated love for her children - it wasn’t clear. But what was clear as day was Karuna’s unlimited joy.

Cutting out a piece of cake, she did not have to debate much whom to feed first, because Sibin had been standing with an open mouth for the last five minutes or so.

‘Bittu, you don’t think twice before embarrassing me,’ Shruti remonstarted her kid.

‘Let him be,’ Karuna said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Heart brimming with love and gratitude, and eyes overflowing with tears, Karuna hugged her grandchildren - Kirti, Biplab, Shruti and Mayank- all of them. Sibin too bounced around them, a triangular cap on his head. Just like the one Biplab had on his head. What with belonging to the same mafia syndicate.

She had brought up all of these children, tiny tots, all of them and here they were - all tall and stout as horses, throwing a party for her. The Almighty had been too kind to her. If He had snatched some joys untimely, he had given ample in return. May God, keep all of my kids happy! She sent out a prayer.

She patted the head of the wheelbound girl who was looking at them longingly. What was the girl’s name? Prajakta? Prastav?

‘Prasanna. I am Prasanna, Dadi. Happy Birthday.’ The girl’s voice was gentle and spoke of well breeding.

‘Thank you, child. Thank you. God bless you. May you get everything you wish for. A job, a loving partner, a prosperous home and healthy children.’

‘My grandmother is like that, Estella. She is really generous in giving blessings.’ Biplab said, taking her to a side, and then pulling a chair to sit next to her.

Prasanna smiled affectionately at him.

‘Your brother did not come?’ He asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘He was supposed to come straight from work. Must have been caught up in something. Thank you for having me here.’

‘What thank you? You are my friend. You had to be here.’ Prasanna wanted to move beyond the friendzone. The guy would be leaving a few days later. She could not afford a tortoise pace.

‘Tonight, we will dance together,’ he informed her.

‘I would love to but there is an inconvenience. So you will have to excuse me.’

‘No inconvenience. I am there, no? I have said you’re going to dance with me and that’s final.’

‘Your word is not a line cut in stone. I am not dancing! I have never before and am not going to change that just because you think you made me go on a bus tour so dance is also very much possible. Remember I am no project of yours. Dance as much you want to but keep me out of your plans. I am not making a fool of me here.’

‘Okay, fine.’ He said, getting up from her side. The same moment a bronze complexioned girl stepped into the house, a huge gift pack in her hand.

‘Lalan...I mean Lily, thank you for coming,’ Prasanna heard Kirti say and her shoulders unconsciously squared in defence as she weighed her opponent. Long flowing skirt and a boat neck top. Feathered hair and the piercings. This flower Lily, did not boast of any extraordinary features that recommended one to the other sex but there was something about the way she carried herself, her confidence and attitude that made her stand out from others. But Prasanna refused to acknowledge it. 

With an air of nonchalance, she saw Biplab accept the gift from Lily and awkwardly welcome her and walk her to his grandmother, then proceeding to show her an empty chair.

Prasanna hoped he would come back to her, but the girl with the piercings said something to him and he was caught in an argument. An avid reader herself, it was not lost on Prasanna that every romance had an arguing leads and misunderstanding in its wake.

XxxX

‘Did you have cake, Mohini?’ Kirti asked, a tray filled with snacks in her arms. Mohini was an eighteen year old girl who was preparing for an undergraduate course in Physiotherapy. Both parents worked at construction sites as daily wage workers and to make ends meet, she often worked as a caretaker of Karuna when Kirti was out on her job.

‘Yep, Didi. Biplab gave me one. Can I take one more?’

‘Yes, please be free to eat as much you want, Mohini.’ Kirti said distractedly. She had heard a car’s honk and her eyes inadvertently searched for a familiar figure through the grilles of the window. She remembered then that his car was too big to fit in their lane and he always left it parked three lanes away, a little detail her foggy brain had missed. Realising then that sabotaging her self respect, she was waiting for a man who was a seasoned player, she shook her head off his thoughts and walked to others to serve them snacks.

‘Isi mein kaam chalana hai ki kuch bhojan pani bhi milega?’ Mayank’s father asked, eyeing the snacks plate.

‘Ji, uncle khane peene sab ka intezam yahin hai aaj.’ Kirti moved to Ammaji, handing her a plate now.  ‘Where’s Radha?’ She eyed the entire room. Mayank was busy with Mira’s husband.

‘Must be running around somewhere.’ Sometimes Kirti did not like Ammaji at all. How could one be so careless about a child? A young girl at that. Look at Shruti. No matter where she was or what she was doing, her whole attention was on Sibin.

True, a child without a father was not as orphan as a child without a mother. Kirti herself had been lucky to have Karuna and Sandy who filled the role of mother for her. But Radha, she had no one!

Distributing the snacks, she put the tray away and went in search of the little girl.

‘Radha...Radha...Sibin, where is Radha?’ He did not know but accompanied Kirti in her search. She looked in the backyard and then the front garden, the gate was left open. Running to look outside, she found the girl and a man bent together. Reading heinous crimes against girl children these days, made Kirti rush to the aid of the little girl. 

‘Radhaa...I have been looking for you, child.’ And then, under the streetlamp,  realizing that she knew this potential criminal she greeted him. ‘Hi... Nishit. What are you doing here with Radha?’ 

They were both engrossed in looking for something, Nishit’s phone torch was on.

‘What are you doing?’ She asked again. Sibin, hanging now from a squatting Nishit’s shoulder, asked, ‘What are you searching for? Dragon flies?’ He had seen older boys catch insects by their wings.

‘No, we are looking for a jewel.’

‘Jewehel?’ He looked at him with big eyes.

‘Yes, this lady here has lost her hair clip.’

‘Klipp...ohhh. What is the colour? I will help in finding.’ He asked his little friend. 

‘Dolphin clip,’ she replied.

‘You won’t find it here,’ Kirti interrupted their hunt. ‘Radha, dear, you must have dropped it in the garden,’ she said, closing her fist around the hair ornament. She had found it lying in the verandah when looking for Radha. ‘I had seen something glittering near the rose bushes. Come Sibin and Radha. The one to reach the gate first is the winner. One...two...th,’ before she could finish, Sibin was running towards the gate. ‘Go, Radha,’ she pushed the girl who tottered and lagged behind.

‘No evil designs on Radha’s person, let me assure you,’ Nishit said, getting in step beside her. 

‘When did I say that you had?’

‘The way you came running. Plus you have a history of blaming me for crimes against women. I am sure you must be thinking that I was some kidnapper.’

‘Shut up!’ Kirti bristled at the knowledge that he had been able to read her so clearly.

‘You are late.’ 

‘I am,’ he admitted, shoving his hands in his pocket.

‘Should I keep you waiting here for some two hours since you did not come on time?’

‘I was waiting outside. You were the one who brought me inside. Also, you don’t qualify to dole out punishments. I have come here for Dadi and Biplab. Let them decide if I deserve any punishment.’

They entered their house where Sibin was shouting that he had won the race. Radha was already by the rose bushes checking for her clip. 

‘Where is the clip?’ Sibin asked.

‘Oh, there see…’ Kirti dropped the clip on the rose bed. 

‘Where?’ Radha patted Nishit’s trousers to lend light from his torch.

He immediately switched it on and soon enough the little girl found her hair pin. A dolphin shaped clip glittering in blue color.

‘Now go inside children. See, TJ Bhaiyya will be soon playing DJ. Go and prepare your dance moves.’ She said shooing away the kids. ‘And Radha, from next time onward, don’t go out of the house alone. Not a good habit, child. If I see you doing that, I will no longer bring you these clips.’

‘Why did you do that?’ Nishit asked once the kids had run inside. ‘You could have simply returned her the hairpin instead of making them look for it.’

‘And kill all the fun? She was searching it on roads and everywhere. It would have been anticlimactic for her. Also, the pleasure of finding something in the most unlikely of places when you have given up the hopes of it, the thrill of it is an experience that is unmatchable.’

‘Come, I will take you to Dadi.’ 

XxxX

He had met Dadi, had drawn a  chair, sitting next to her, conversed with her on various topics while Kirti prepared a plate of snacks for him. She chose the biggest piece of milk cake for him, then wondered if the oil in it would be too much. She took much care in choosing the best looking samosa and vegetable cutlet, a few chocolates and served the plate to him, along with a small tetra pack of Frooti.

‘Thanks,’ he said, accepting it gracefully. Then looking at the frooti, he said, ‘Brings back memories.’

Smiling generously at him, she said, ‘Farewell!’

It seems Radha and Sibin had been taken by the new visitor for they kept loitering around him. Patting Nishit’s shoulder, Radha was asking for his phone. He was hesitant in sharing it, as she looked at him accusingly.

‘Go and ask your Mayank Chachu, Radha.’ Kirti called out for Mayank. ‘Isko phone de do yaar iska.’ Mayank had a special old model phone for his niece.

‘I would have given her, but I keep getting mails from work…’ Nishit explained.

‘Why are you explaining? I understand. This Sibin he once took my phone and downloaded a game, spending my entire data pack of the day.’

Sibin had arrived now with a small casio piano, an old toy of Biplab that he had found in the house and placing it on the thigh of Nihsit began displaying his artistic prowess. ‘Uncle, see…’ 

‘Bhaiyya, Sibin,’ Kirti corrected the boy. ‘The gentleman here likes to be addressed as Bhaiyya.’

‘Not by you,’ Nishit said. 

‘Kirti, I think the dinner should be served now.’ Karuna said at the same time so she did not pay attention to his words.

‘I will start preparing Dadi in sometime. The children will dance for sometime.’ She procrastinated, delaying leaving Nishit’s company.

Turning to Nishit,‘What did you say,’ she asked, distractedly.

‘I said, this chocolate doesn’t taste like Dairy Milk. It has a sweet and very milky taste. That hallmark Cadbury chocolateness is missing.’ He commented, biting into the chocolate.

‘Uhm...that is because it is not Dairy Milk but Fairy Milk,’ she said sheepishly. ‘So hua kya that I had so many chores, I just gave our regular kirani store the ration list. I thought children would come and on the occasion of birthdays, chocolates are mandatory, no? The shopkeeper boy delivered the ration. I did not have time to go through the entire stock. I saw the chocolate packets, they looked like Dairy Milks. It is only today evening when I bit into one that I realized I had been duped. They sold me cheap copies and at the same price!’

He himself picked up the packet and fair enough it was very similar to authentic packets. When he studied it in detail only then he read that small F in front of airy Milk. ‘Then the fairness creams that he is selling must be all Dare N Lovely.’

‘But haven’t you heard Fair N Lovely's new name, Glow N Lovely.’

‘Be aware he must be all busy rolling out Blow N Lovely products’ He joked.

They had a good laugh over it. ‘It doesn’t end there. He sells Aunty chips also, you know. Teekhi, Chatpati Local Aunty chips.’

Some more laughter. Was the conversation really funny or were they simply playing  an age old game?

The warmth that she felt in her breasts, did  it have to do with the presence of the guy beside her? The ballerina in her stomach, she required no DJ to make her appearance.She had been happy earlier too but not as much as his mere smile evoked.

Their camaraderie caught the eyes of people. Kirti’s eyes collided with Shruti who was sitting next to Prasanna and her friend’s stare made her aware of her surroundings.

‘That is TJ. He is our DJ.’ She said in a more controlled voice. Unaffected and untouched by his charm, she wanted to portray.

‘No more PJs. Dinner ab kijeys,’ he finished, his face still drawn in mirth.

‘Huh?’ She asked.

‘It rhymed,’ he said.

See? It was difficult to be unaffected around him.

‘So this TJ. His name is Titan Jairam and he’s an aspiring rapper. Heavily influenced by  Emiway and Lil Wayne. So, the problem with him is he can’t decide what he wants. Sometimes he starts in Hindi copying Emiway , sometimes English Eminem's style. He even studies Marathi hoping it would give him an edge. The lyrics don’t come to him. I am afraid he is going the Tony Kukkad way. But since he’s muhalla ka baccha, we are all very supportive. After all we need to have each other’s back. Who knows his perseverance will take him to good heights. So before he starts playing songs, he will perform a few of his own original songs. However bad it is, do not laugh. Clapping is encouraged. If it is too much of a torture, just think this too shall pass.’

‘Ladiz and Mere Yaaron...Kachde tum sab baharo...Kyunki hai swachchta mision...aur ye mera dost kishan… Gaya tha woh Japan...miss kiya usne Babban ka paan...Bolo Bolo Bolo Hip Hop Hip Hop…Apna Samay Bhi Ayega Jab Apun Mummy Papa ko World Tour Pe Le jayega…’ Nishit looked at Kirti, who was making  a show of enjoying the stint. She blinked at him to erase that disbelieving look from his face. A few of TJ’s friends were making noises with their mouths and hands. Thankfully the show ended. And DJ music started playing, putting the children in action. They began jumping in the middle of the room as the newly released song, Nadiyan Paar song boomed in the living room. Soon Biplab joined the children. Lily also did not need any invitation. Mira and her husband joined their children. Shruti was accompanying her son and Mayank waltzing with Radha. 

‘You also go, child,’ Mayank’s father asked Kirti to join the dance floor. 

‘I’m okay uncle. I don’t dance.’

‘You don’t?’ Nishit asked.

‘I don’t.’

‘So you never dance?’

‘Never. At least not in public.’

‘Liar!’

‘Sorry?’

‘So, you’ve never danced before in public that is?’ tilting the chair, balancing on its back legs.

‘No,’ she replied. Then putting her hand on the back of his chair, she said, ‘Careful. Or you’ll fall.’

‘Kirti, child. Go and dance. Nishit, you too, child. What are you doing among us?’ Karuna said.

‘Let’s go, Kirti.’

‘Where?’ 

‘To dance.’

‘I don’t know. I feel very uncomfortable in front of others.’

‘I am there, no. Come,’ he said pulling her hand in his. 

‘No,’ she refused again.

‘Fine,’ when he gave up so easily, she replied looking sideways not meeting his eyes, ‘Okay, maybe I will try.’

On the dance floor, she threw her arms and legs in some known steps, sometimes aping her brother, sometimes moving simply with Shruti. But then while moving from one person to another, she realized Nishit knew only her here so to leave him alone on the floor was impolite and putting him in an awkward position. As her thoughts, he was moving away from the floor, when she caught his arm. And without saying anything, danced with him awkwardly. Pumping fists, shaking hips; she knew he was totally laughing at her. The songs kept changing with DJ TJ booming in between the lyrics. So, when she was going to make a circle around him - just another of her stupid dance steps - he caught her arms and pulled her close into a ball dance of sorts. She wanted to tell him hellow this is a family channel - only PG rated steps please? 

Coincidentally, the remix of Tumse Milke Aisa Laga was playing.

Looking down into her eyes, his hands around her waist, her hands placed on his shoulders, they moved in tandem. If she stepped on his toes or took wrong steps, he did not show it.

‘Maine Kiya Hai Raat Din…

 Bas Tera Hi Intezaar…

Tere Bina Aata Nahin

Ek Pal Mujhe Ab Karaar…’

It was the first time she had gotten to play the rightful role in a ball dance.

‘Go and ask Kirti to dance with you?’ Shruti ordered Mayank.

‘Why should I?’

‘Do as I say! Kirti would also be wanting the same.’

Mayank continued to entertain his niece. ‘Mayank,’ Shruti poked his ribs and continued to poke him until he shifted to where Kirti danced. Shruti finally heaved a sigh of relief. The flirting was going overboard now. Anybody looking at the two now, could decipher that something was up. Dadi! Ammaji! All of their eyes were glued on the two.

‘Kirti, a dance with me too?’ Mayank asked.

‘Umm, okay,’ she accepted, making Nishit step back and walk back to his seat.

XxxX

She did not dance with Mayank for long though, feeling Nishit’s gaze on her the entire time which was all her misconception for when she looked in his direction, he was well engrossed in talking to his sister. Just a few formality steps and then excused saying she should start serving the dinner. When she left, the other elders left too.

‘Haan Bhai, serve the dinner. I am very hungry,’ Mayank’s father said, massaging his stomach. 

Mayank and Shruti followed Kirti into the kitchen. Biplab went to put away the chairs and bring mats to be spread on the floor, Karuna was banished from the kitchen for the day, but her restless self brought a chair and planting herself at the kitchen door, she supervised the children.

‘Fry the kachoris.’ ‘Heat up the sabzi’ ‘Serve the kheer in that bowl.’ ‘Aye boy, take out some pickles too in a bowl.’

‘If it were possible, Dadi would sit on our heads and manoeuvre each of our moves like Ratatouille did for the chef.’ Mayank wisecracked. 

‘That is mean, Mayank.’ Kirti reproached but could not help the traitorous laughter that bubbled up her throat.

‘Let me tell Dadi, that you’re bitching about her and let’s get you demoted from her ladla list.’ Shruti said.

‘You can try.’

This way they were engaged in a friendly banter, when an uncertain Nishit standing at the door asked, ‘May I help?’

‘No, you cannot!’ An-impervious-to-good-looks Shruti answered firmly. Then when Kirti eyed her sternly, she added some honey to her voice. ‘You are our guest. Please just sit and let us serve you with utmost hospitality.’

He was returned to his seat. But later when children and some elders had sat down to eat, and there was a need for hands, Nishit again offered. Karuna appointed him to serve kheer. Accepting the vessel from Kirti, he was ladling the dessert into the paper cups of the eating guests, when Karuna and Ammaji shouted. ‘Babu...Nisiiit babu...Bayan haath se nahi...Aye boy!! Not with your left hand’ 

‘Yes?’ He turned, his hand still in the air, a few drops of milk and rice staining the floor.

‘Why are you serving with your left hand? It is a heathen’s practice.Have you not been taught not to use your left hand? The elders have not taught you at home?’ Both Ammaji and Karuna were speaking together.

When Kirti stepped out from the kitchen hearing Nishit’s name, the scene looked as if a pack of veteran tigers had jumped on a young deer. Feeling protective of him, she explained, ‘He’s a leftie.’

'Fine, but he must eat with his right hand only no...'

‘He eats with his left hand only,’ she answered for him.

Taking away the vessel from him, she said, you go and sit. Ojha uncle was calling him, ‘Come son, sit here.’

‘Parents should habituate the children into using their right hands at least for eating and serving food purposes. My sister’s son…,’ Ammaji began narrating the story on completion  of which she turned to Nishit, 'serve only with your right hand from next time,’ Ammaji advised, still stuck up on the same topic.

‘Sure Ma’am,’ Nishit said, moving his attention to Mr. Ojha, the lady’s husband.

‘So what do you do, son?’

‘I work at a company. Look after Finance and stuff.’

‘Oh. You are a C.A.’ 

Kirti returned to the kitchen after serving the kheer.

Nishit did not correct him, his head moving towards the kitchen from where the voice of laughter and banter floated out. Mr.Ojha sensing his distraction, said, ‘These children have grown up together. Always joking and laughing. So many years have passed and still behave like children. They are very close to each other. My wife till date hopes for our son to marry Kirti. Nice girl, she is. Shruti beta is nice too. Nowadays we are looking for a groom for Kirti. All is in the hands of God! Who will marry whom, it’s all written in fate. What does your father do?’

A few minutes later, Nishit had excused himself to go sit by his sister.

XxxX

‘Let’s go home, Bhai.’ Prasanna demanded as soon as Nishit came to sit next to her.

The women were staring at the richly dressed and endowed with good looks, sibling duo, looking so out of place here. Prasanna was the center of stage also because of her handicap. She was used to the stares. What she was not used to was the warm blood that thrummed in her veins. The anxiety and anger, she felt in her veins. Very early, the party had lost her charm for her. 

The shortcomings had begun to glare at her. The walls were pale. The ac was missing.The food and the cake everything was greasy. She missed the comfort of her home. She would any day prefer her books over the company of these loud people. What she missed most was the sunshine like smile of the abominable guy all focused on her. He had disappeared from her side when she had refused to dance and had not once come to her after that. And why would he? He had found another girl! Who had legs! And pretty moves, too. Her throat clenching tight, she again asked her brother to leave.

‘It will be too obvious. Wait for sometime and we’ll leave.’ He himself looked not in a very good mood.

Shruti came to them with a food plate. ‘Nishit, your food.’

‘Thank you’

‘You know me right?’

‘The real Ms.Verghese’

‘There are fakes out there?’

When he didn't answer, she said, ‘My college was very close to yours. Sometimes I accompanied Kirti, and when we’d call you, you'd act as if you didn’t hear us.’

‘In all possibilities, I must have not heard you.’

‘Next time please bring along your girlfriend as well’

‘I will Ms.Verghese, if her name is added to the invitation card. Btw, you have a cute son.’ Sibin had come to hug his mother’s legs.

‘Taken after me.’

‘Highly doubt that,’ he murmured.

‘Asshole,’ she muttered back.

XxxX

‘You are leaving? I hope you had a nice time. I know it was nothing like your parties…’ Kirti was blabbering.

‘No, it was good. We enjoyed it. Didn’t we Prasanna?’ Nishit and Prasanna were outside saying their farewells.

‘Hmm,’ Prasanna was not in a mood of being effusive.

‘Sorry Prasanna, I couldn’t spend much time with you today.’ Kirti had also noticed the impoliteness and cruelty of her brother.

‘It’s okay. I am really tired, Bhai. Can we start?’ 

‘Please, take care of your guests,’ Nishit turned to Kirti. ‘No need to walk us till our car.’ 

Kirti was dismissed just like that. She couldn't help but feel anxious about the turn in their behaviours. He had been so open with him and she had liked him. But he, what did he feel?

XxxX

‘There world is very different from us, isn’t it, Bhai? They have so many people. It’s like our presence didn’t matter. They wouldn’t even have noticed if we hadn’t come. Bhai, I don’t want to go home tonight, can I sleep at your place tonight?’

‘Okay.’

‘Bhai, they were so mean. Humiliating you in front of so many people when you were just trying to help. Did you feel bad when Kirti’s dadi or that woman scolded you?’

‘There were a few things I did not like,’ he answered cryptically.

At her brother’s place, she tossed and turned in her bed, the sight of Biplab falling for that flower playing all night in front of her eyes. Then finally giving up, she picked up a pen and paper and wrote a short story. The protagonist of it was a version of hers. This woman could dance and gave no import to dimple cheeked guys!

Nishit on the other hand, stepped into his balcony, a cigarette in one hand. When he saw a scantily dressed woman - his new neighbour in the next balcony, he gave an acknowledging nod, proceeding to look at the silent night and the ocean waves lapping up the shores.

 41. Frooti Farewell

[PAST]

‘I think we are the only two who are working.’ Manisha said, pushing away her front bangs with the back of her hand. At the same time, she also accomplished the task of balancing the numerous food packets in her arms. Dressed in a navy blue Patiala suit, she looked royal and beautiful.

‘There’s him too,’ Kirti pointed to the boy who was assiduously arranging the square boxes in straight rows. ‘My squad leader.’ Kirti was bent, filling up a jute bag with frooti tetra packs to distribute them to their seniors.

The farewell night for their seniors was in full swing. Few programs had already been performed including her song. Once she was done with the group song; amid best wishes, thumbs up and admiring glances she had rushed to XI A which had been turned to a makeshift pantry for it was on the same floor as the assembly hall where the program was conducted. The headquarters of the Food Committee. There she had been greeted by an effusive and relieved-to-see-her Manisha.

‘KIRTIII!!!You came!’ She had run to her, stopping short of embracing Kirti in her arms. Such displays were not unwelcome but a little embarrassing  when done in open, especially in the presence of boys of other sections, all of them turned to gawk at the two expressive friends. Then there was her squad leader who had arrived there earlier than her.

‘I had promised to help you, hadn’t I?’ 

‘But I wouldn’t have faulted you for not keeping it. This is the dreaded Food Committee after all.’

When students had been asked to participate in the farewell activities and take part in programs, the Food Committee was the last activity to sign up for on the minds of IX-thers. No one wanted to wait upon their seniors and their own classmates when they could simply sit and enjoy the night watching performances. Secondly, it was a demanding job – to be on one’s toes for the entire time - that paid little or nothing in return. Sometimes you had to deal with entitled brats who came with preposterous expectations as if the night had been financed by their parents!

‘Why did you have to sign up for this then?’ Kirti asked, tossing her hair away from her shoulder. Sandy aunty had twined half of her hair and clipped it beautifully at the back. The rest of the hair had been let free. It swayed with the gentle breeze of the evening or bounced playfully and gently along her shoulders with every step or small unaware movement of hers.  She wore a suit - it was the dress code for the ninth class students - mustard yellow in colour. It had embroidery work around its collared neck and long sleeved arms . Even though compared to the girls of her class she stood nowhere, but she was pleased and content with her looks. Especially the way, the light touch of makeup - lip gloss and kohl - brought out her charm. She had liked the girl who stared back at her from the mirror. Her father had also said, she looked like a young and pretty sprite.

‘For merit points, obviously.’ 

‘The shop delivery guy has delivered more packets. It’s down in the clerical room. Go and collect it, Nishit,’ Tr.Jasmine came and informed them, interrupting Kirti and Manisha’s chatter. 

‘Alone?’ Nishit had asked.

‘Where are the other boys?’ Dance performance was on and they were all gathered at the back of the chairs watching the boisterous students jumping on Bollywood popular numbers.

‘Okay, you,’ The teacher had pointed towards Kirti. She did not know her name. ‘Go and help him.’

Bustling down the stairs and walking through the empty corridors, in the evening was an experience in itself.

‘Our voices are echoing,’ she had mentioned.

‘Hmm’

‘Our school looks so beautiful under the lights,’ she had said leaning from one of the corridors, watching the empty basketball court and the portico and pretty lawns.

‘More like haunted,’ I would say, ‘Imagine being left behind here and having to wander from this room to that.’

‘Nishit! Don’t put ideas into my head!’

He had simply shrugged, the tilt of his lips giving away his mirth.

‘Why do you boys have to add a nefarious angle to each and every thing?!’

‘It is a very legitimate angle. I don’t find anything pretty. Instead it is looking like a haunted place with not a single person in sight. No comforting sound.’ He had said leaning next to her. She turned towards the scenery, he turned towards her, his arms across his chest, his back to the scenery. 

In that moment, they shared a comfortable silence like never before.

‘Let’s go or teacher will start wondering what is taking us so long.’

‘Yes, before any Moaning Myrtle decides to sneak on us, let’s go.’

‘Moaning Myrtle?’ She was clueless.

‘You know, Harry Potter. That crying specs girl in the bathroom who frightens Harry when he’s in a tub. You’ve read/watched Harry Potter?’

‘Crying specs girl...ohhhh...Mayus Meena?’ She had watched the Hindi dubbed version on Star Gold.

‘I guess so. Is that what they call her in the Hindi version?’ 

‘Yes.’

‘Interesting. Seems I should watch the Hindi version.’

She had ignored him thinking he was looking down upon her because she had watched the Hindi dubbed one and had walked away, a song bubbling up in her breast seeing the empty corridor.

‘Awaaz Do Humko...Hum Kho Gaye…Kab Neend Se Jage...Kab So Gaye,’ She let out the words in the air. It came back to her soon enough, her words echoing.

‘Kirtiiii…’ He called. ‘Kirtiii,’ the walls replayed.

‘What?’ She asked, turning to face him.

Hands in pocket, he shrugged following her. ‘You said, awaaz do and that you were lost.’

Later when they had been distributing the food items to the students, she had by mistake stepped on the tailing sari of a pretty and glamorous senior.

‘Heyy!! What are you doing?!’ The girl had shrieked.

‘I am so so sorry. Really sorry!’ Kirti had apologised profusely. Then had shifted to the boy’s rows. While handing them the food packets, she was also appointed the task of taking their photographs. 

‘Click us too,’ One of the guys dressed in a bow and suit, handed her his phone. She didn’t know how to use it. 

‘Which one do I press?’

‘Very easy it is, here click on this one.’ The guy had explained his head really close to hers.

‘Okay,’ she clicked, the pressure of clicking the perfect picture too much to bear. ‘Is it okay?’ She asked.

‘Yeah, one more. Thank you. What is your name? Kirti. Never saw you before. Can I get extra food ka dabba? No? Am I not charming enough?’ The few others were laughing at her expense. ‘What same old frooti? That too this small? Why such a low budget, yaar? Bahut faltu school hai apna! Sala frooti se aage badhega hi nahi!’ ‘Arre Kirti, where are you going? Let’s click a picture together.’

‘Later, maybe?’ She offered. ‘Later when?’ The boy asked. 

‘Kirti,’ Nishit had come to her rescue. ‘Tr, is calling you.’

‘Who’s that guy?’ She had asked him later.

‘Tapas Roy’

‘Which class?’

‘X C’

‘He’s very good looking. Do you think he’ll be getting the Mr.Riverside title?’

‘No idea.’

‘But he’s really smart. The kind of looks that catches your eyes in a room full of people.’

‘The title is not just about looks. The judges also look for other things like confidence and presence of mind. They ask questions to know what kind of a person one really is.’

‘What kind of a person is he?’

‘I don’t know,’ he had snapped. Then later added, ‘He smokes.’

‘What?! But he is...must be only sixteen or seventeen at the most.’

‘So?’

‘How do you know he smokes? Do you smoke too?’

When he didn’t reply, she was agitated but knowing her boundaries could only add, ‘I hope you don’t. You know how injurious it is to health right? It doesn’t look cool at all. Lips become ugly.’

Then, when the program had been closing in and all the students had assembled to dance , living in the moment the life of Riley, Kirti had from the outskirts of that world, sitting down and eating her meal, had watched Nishit dance. At first with his male friends, then with Sana. Try as she might, she could never gather courage to accompany them in their merry making. Tejas had been somehow entrapped into being the cameraman for senior sari clad girls.

Years later, she would realize it - introducing Tapas Roy in the conversation - had all been a ruse. To extract a reaction from him. To make him look at her, or hear her even if it meant praising others.

If there was anyone who had looked very smart that night, it wasn’t Tapas Roy or Nikhil Bhonsle who won the Riverside title. Rather, it had been her squad leader. A ford blue color shirt tucked in and dark pants. Crew cut hair so unlike other boys he didn’t have hair falling over his forehead or combed and gelled into fancy spikes. Where others with tucked-in shirts looked like dorks, he had looked elegant and refined. Quiet and without any complaint, listening to Teacher Jasmine, as she talked about her son and his MBA placement. About her brother who was a foreign diplomat. About her husband who had passed away. Then helping them pick up the discarded frooti bottles, food packets. The only guy to stay back and clean the place. Manisha and Kirti had vested interest in staying back. The one who left last had the chances to get extra food packets and frooti. His reason was however more philanthropic.  All because Teacher Jasmine had been incharge of the Food Committee and she had been his class teacher in sixth standard. She had only joked, ‘Won’t you join my committee, Aggarwal?’ He had smiled softly, ‘Your wish, my command, Ma’am.’ Ever the charmer!

Then there was another boy - Anish Mahanty - from IX A section. Stiff and reticent. In charge of the Food Committee.

‘Thank you very much for your contribution, Manisha and Kirti,’ he had said and dismissed them.

Manisha and Kirti had lingered, sending longing glances at the spare food packets across the room . And those not anymore chilled frooti packets.

He had read their intent in their eyes. ‘Sorry, but the teacher is taking all of that.’ He had shrugged.

Manisha and Kirti had been livid. 

‘So much toiling like donkeys for nothing!’

‘I bet he’s lying. He will give some of them to his friends and will take the rest home.’

‘It is only because Navneet Sir said that no participation means no merit points that I joined the committee,’ Manisha said.

‘And I because of you.’

‘Next time we would remember never to be a part of the Committee.’ No one mentioned that there was not going to be a next time. The next year they will be in tenth and then soon applying for college. 

They had cribbed all the way to the entrance gate of their school. Her heels had begun to ache with all the standing. Her father had been waiting by his bike. 

‘Everybody left. Why did you take so much time?’ He asked.

‘I was helping out, Papa,’ she said eyeing the lone guy leave the campus and walk to his car. He looked at her and she sitting on the pillion now raised her hand half in the air, waving at him. He gave a nod and an awkward wave - perhaps he was taken aback by her familiarity. She herself did not know why she had waved at him -, getting inside his car.

The next day they had been called up to empty the assembly hall of the chairs. 

‘How did we get embroiled in this slavery all over again?’ Manisha had asked hefting a chair over her shoulder.

‘I have no idea,’ Kirti replied. She was also carrying a folded chair.

Quite a many students had used this opportunity to play truant.

The hall was empty and a few girls remained sitting in corners gossiping. There wasn’t going to be any study for even their subject teachers were relaxing in staff rooms.

‘Kirti, come here, wanna ramp walk?’ Manisha had put her hands on her hips and strutted on the makeshift runway. 

‘Woo!’ Kirti wolf whistled. Then when Manisha was turning, her chin held high and her hips bouncing with each step she took towards Kirti, Kirti waited on her knees, asking for her hand. ‘A dance with the lady, may I?’ It came very natural to Kirti. She had always (with her neighbour friends) played the male partner in dances owing to her height.

‘Sure,’ Manisha had put her hands and they had twirled about on the stage, unmindful of the other girls sitting and chatting. Separating from each other, they had giggled and talked animatedly.

When leaving, Anish Mahanty had called them, and given them frooti packets. Three to each.

‘I saved them for you two.’ He had his eyes fixed on Manisha. Perhaps he hoped to impress her but Manisha, the tomboy and quite devoted to Samarth Raisingh - their hero, had eyes for no one.

‘Oh! Thank you!’ It had added to their cheerful mood. They felt conscious of the ill feelings they had for him last night but quickly recovered thinking that after having digested the food packets he was wooing them into silence with frooti bribe now.

In the class when she had been putting the packets into her bag, ‘Hey, share one with us too.’ Navyam had said.

Kirti had thought they would judge her for wanting free frooti. Middle class mentality after all it was. However, it seemed rich or poor, no one minded freebies.

‘Why should I share with you. This is my hard earned frooti.’ They were all dancing when she had been working.

‘You have three,’ Tejas had accused.

‘So?’ She would drink one and share the other two with her brother and Dadi.

‘Miser!’ Navyam remarked.

Kirti had wanted to stick her tongue out at him. 

During the recess, she had given one of her frooti packs away. To Nishit. Dadi didn’t like to drink these sweetened or carbonated artificial drinks. And Nishit had been the only who deserved it besides her and Manisha. 

‘Don’t drink now, okay? Take it home and refrigerate it,’ she had advised as if he was a nincompoop.