Chapter 5
A/N: Hey there everyone! :D :D Here is the next update! :D :D
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4th November, 2007:
Could this day suck anymore?
Honestly, there is a limit of how many things can implode and go wrong at the same time! I missed the deadline of the first submission and the professor won't even consider the assignment now! Well, how is it my fault if I was so ill up until yesterday that I couldn't get up from my bed? But no! No considerations to be given, no matter how genuine the reason is. Great! My first assignment and I'm screwed.
If I were to add more to the list, I just received Maa's call today. She's been crying too. Apparently she and Baba have been missing me too much and life in Surat has been difficult, in spite of the money lent. Well, it certainly wasn't going to be easy, but Baba hasn't been keeping too well. Asthma. And Maa's been so worried about me being in an entirely new environment that by the end of the conversation, instead of her assuring me and giving me the strength, it was vice-versa. And by the time I returned to my room, I think I'd positively been in much worse spirits than what I was since morning.
And then there's the environment itself. I'm all alone, and it sucks. I've never minded being alone, but being lonely is an option I've never always liked, really. And this time, there's no Ishaani to bank upon because I cannot let her make my own fears and insecurities her own. That was a bridge I think we both burnt down after out phone call last week. And besides, I cannot put Ishaani through something like this at a time when she'd so weak and vulnerable herself. And this brings my thoughts back to her, and it only hurts more and more thinking about how exposed she is at this time.
But I cannot do anything about it because there's not just her expectations riding upon me, but those of my parents and Mota Babuji too. I cannot let so many people down at once, especially my parents whose sacrifices for me have come at such heavy a cost in all these years. There's no scope for error, there's no margin for distractions. There's no option but to succeed. And that's why, all of this has to remain to myself. Nobody can know my turmoils, my inhibitions.
Nobody can know that Ranveer Vaghela is beginning to disintegrate.
I really wish that I had someone to share things with, though. My other two roommates seemed to have bonded so well, it's like they've known each other since forever. A politician's son and a business tycoon's progeny - what was to be expected, really? I'm honestly relieved that they consider me as good as non-existent because they're just the same for me. Exactly the kind of people who Ishaani and I hate.
And this again brings my thoughts back to her and how we'd share everything with each other while star-gazing. Wow, it's been twenty-six days since I've even last stargazed. But do I have any option, really? I wake up at six in the morning, go for a jog just to relieve my nerves and then it's just research and study and research and study until I return back to my room from the lab at as late as two in the morning. One night, I've even slept in the lab as well just because I was too tired to get up from my seat.
I'm sorry that I haven't been able to give you that much time as well, but I promise to be a little more regular from this point forth. You've been a faithful companion so far and a good friend and I wish I could have given you some more time. But time's exactly what I don't have. I've been surviving on just three hours' worth of sleep since the last ten days ever since the term has begun. The stress and the change in environment and the workload is all getting to me and it's why I haven't been able to cope that well health wise. I've turned into a psychosomatic like Ishaani, I think.
I hope she's doing well...
I don't know, really. Something doesn't feel right, truth be said. I received another letter from her yesterday and she did sound considerably better. I can read through the sharp dots of her "i's" and the hard impression she uses when she's compressing her feelings or the effortlessly smooth flow of writing when she's lying. She did seem better to me, thankfully. But there's still something off in my heart. Like there's something going to happen... Like a sort of foreboding. But nothing in her letter indicated anything of that sort.
Unless you consider the only bit of outside information she let me know. She did mention about having to go to one of Mota Babuji's best friend's place today since his son has returned from Harvard recently. Keertan Mehta, I think the name was. She joked about how she's going to see whether his son is any good or is just like all the other progenies who'll feed off of their fathers' money, and might even try to bully him a little.
Seriously, that girl is stupid. I must have told her so many times not to meddle with things like that but goodness knows what fun she derives from it. I've always told her time and again never to mess with people like this because she's already done it once and we both know the cost we had to pay for it eleven years ago. The world is a bad, manipulative place and try as much as I might, I simply cannot stuff this point down that think skull of hers!
And I can't even hold her off now since she's free to do whatever she wants. I even tried breaking my rule and calling her up but she missed the call, and by the time she called me back, I'd already fallen asleep. Time difference. God, I just hope that she doesn't do anything stupid, really.
Sigh.
I really miss her, you know? All of our arguments, our mindless conversations... Those suddenly meaningful ones that betrayed a lot more than what we let out. I miss it all. I miss the weight of her head upon my chest whenever she'd let me catch her whenever she was weak. I miss being vulnerable knowing that she'd catch me when I fell. I miss that essence of hers... That rosy vanilla scent of hers. I miss her terribly.
I wonder if I'm ever going to make a friend in this city.
Ranveer strolled along the heavily bustling streets of City Road, lost in thought. The solitude of his empty room and the blaring noise of his turbulent thoughts were beginning to fog his judgment until his brain begged for some fresh air. He couldn't take it anymore. And so, swinging out from his poster bed and arming himself up with what little money he had left, he left the room without any further delay.
It was weekend night and he knew that his roommates weren't going to make an appearance until the next afternoon. That left him with sufficient amount of time and privilege to stroll upon the streets outside their lodging, his stomach already beginning to rumble after their 5PM dinner. Indian's weren't used to being given dinner at five, and Ranveer was no exception. He may have gone hours at a time without food, but somehow, the stress had only opened his appetite more.
Knowing that there was no option to eat any more since his finances had already begun depleting to a danger point, he decided to satisfy himself with simply a walk. There wasn't anything back in the room to snack upon, and what was there, he didn't have the permission to use. Snickering to himself about the irony of life, he walked aimlessly across the streets, admiring the night life of the city as he planned at the back of his mind about finally having to set up an appointment with the unknown Mr. Zaveri if he had to bring in extra income for survival.
Even with the stingiest of budgets and money allocation, Sydney was an exceptionally expensive city to live in, and his planning only delayed the exhaustion point of his finance by days, not the predicament itself. Knowing the maddening schedule he was currently living by, he knew that handling a part-time job would be a death warrant especially with the immense work load and research analysis that he had to simultaneously work upon as well. But if he didn't get a job soon, he knew that he wouldn't be able to survive at all. Neither did his parents have that kind of funds not did he want to ask his mentor for any, especially after everything that was already given to him. And even that was too much for him to accept.
Taking a turn at Manning Road that brought him back into the heart of the entire premise area of the University, Ranveer's feet came at a halt a bar that met his eyes. He smiled distantly as he remembered how his father would fill his stomach with alcohol when food would be less between then at times. Ofcourse it meant that the hangover only got uglier, but well, atleast it filled his stomach. And since foreign liquor wasn't as strong as their desi pauwa, it wouldn't intensify the hangover that bad, guessed Ranveer.
He stared at the bar, wondering whether he'd be able to afford the price of the alcohol when he saw the board right on the front.
ON THE HOUSE THIS WEEKEND
Ranveer smiled to himself and sighed. Well, maybe it was God's way of granting him permission to have some alcohol and relief himself of some hunger. Atleast he wouldn't have to pay for that. He was about to swing the door open when his hand froze, Ishaani's reprimanding image crossing his mind.
"Promise me that you'll not get drunk in Sydney or else I'll send you a personal punching jack in a courier!" she'd threatened him during one of their last days together. And with it, the image of her twisting his arm when he'd gotten drunk for the first time crossed his mind, and he couldn't help but chuckle in spite of himself.
If there was only one ever vice apart from Ishaani that he'd known, it was alcohol. And try as much as he did, he could never truly get rid of the longing he faced from time to time. Standing with his hand suspended upon the handle of the door for ten whole minutes in contemplation, he was rudely snapped back to reality when a couple of student pushed open the door from inside, making Ranveer topple in the process.
"Sorry 'er, mate!"
Ranveer brushed his hands and feet as he stood up, the powerful scent of alcohol too much to resist.
Screw it, I've had the worst day of his life! was all his mind blared at him in plea and he finally succumbed. Some promises were meant to be broken.
Shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, he entered the bar and gasped in surprise.
The bar was a homely one that was filled with several of the students and faculty members alike from different branches and courses, all looking carefree and happy. Ranveer was quick to notice how swiftly the flow the alcohol passed from hand to hand through glasses and several more of them. He wondered what the occasion was since it was evident that someone was funding for it. And to answer his doubt, a loud booming echo was heard suddenly.
"Gawd bless you 'er, Finch! You've done some good, good work in your life on your birthday today!"
A raucous of laughter flew around the air as everyone chanted the name Finch in succession, proposing a toast to the birthday boy in question. Ranveer couldn't get a good look of the person hidden in the horde of people but it didn't matter. He needed some time to pick himself up and somehow, the voice of the crowd was helping to a certain extent.
"What would you have, chap? Whiskey, vodka, champagne, beer?" popped a waiter in front of him out of nowhere, catching Ranveer by surprise.
"Err... a beer, thank you."
The waiter scampered quickly as Ranveer let his head fall into his palms tiredly. This was it. He was lost and he had no clue what to do about it. He just wanted to go back home and see this as some kind of bad dream.
"Why the sad face there, pal?"
Ranveer looked up to see a man in his mid-twenties slide across the empty side of the booth, lauded with garlands and streamers along with a birthday cap and gaudy golden star-shaped glasses. It was not rocket science to know that he was the birthday boy in question.
"I'm fine, just a little tired, that's all," replied Ranveer pointedly. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?
"Are you new around here?" he questioned nosily, taking in Ranveer's despondent appearance with even more interest now.
"Yes, almost a month."
"Well, that's alright. As you must have known by now, I'm the host of this little shindig. Gregory Finch," he introduced himself as he put his hand forward. Ranveer looked at him halfheartedly for a minute before accepting his hand and shaking it firmly.
"I- I'm Ranveer Vaghela."
"Nice to meet you, Vaghela. Indian, I'm assuming?" asked Finch good-naturedly and Ranveer let out a frustrated sigh.
He took one quick look at Finch's appearance and it was no surprise to him that he had the essence of someone who came from a very strong background. Tall, perfectly built, carelessly handsome, and positively spelt rich by the way he was dressed. The recipe for every girl's dream boy. The scent of his eau de cologne overpowering that of the alcohol-scented room was another example of the same. But Ranveer didn't care, because he'd seen enough of the same kind from where he'd come to know how men like those turned out.
"Yes. Any more jokes that you can think about?" shot back Ranveer cheekily, not bothering to sound too courteous. He'd had enough of the jokes already in this one month.
"Hey, easy there, chap. I don't have a problem with Indians. Find them very amusing like that," defended Finch as he raised his hands up in surrender. Ranveer rolled his eyes at the intruding stranger.
"Well, good for me then."
"What's got your bee in a bonnet?" questioned Finch suddenly, abandoning the silly glasses. Ranveer noticed that his eyes were crystal-like piercingly blue.
"What?" asked Ranveer, bewildered.
He sensed that Finch's accent was more British than Australian from the couple of movies he'd watched with Ishaani. And the fact was proven by the key British phrases he used in his sentences.
"Err, I mean what's bothering you?" corrected Finch, realizing that Ranveer was having difficulty keeping up with the speed of his accent.
Ranveer averted his gaze away from the brilliant blue that was blinding him with its sheer intensity, as though afraid he might let slip something that shouldn't be said, no less to a stranger.
"Nothing... Just- just personal stuff."
"Aaah, I see," remarked Finch slyly. "No problem. Drink up, laddy. There's no problem to which alcohol is not a solution to," he added playfully and Ranveer rubbed his palm upon his forehead, torn halfway between annoyance and frustration. Why wouldn't the guy just leave him alone?
"Would you mind leaving me alone, really? I don't mean to be rude but I really do need some me time," stated Ranveer, hoping that it'd offend the charming man opposite him. If anything, his eyes only softened and his smile grew bigger. Ranveer couldn't help but grudgingly notice that it was genuine.
"Alrighty, mate. Take your time! You need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."
Finch slowly got up and made his way back to the horde of people who seemed to hoot louder and louder as the night proceeded by. Ranveer let his head fall upon his arms that were now crossed upon the table. He couldn't even cry now to vent out his frustration. Angrily raising his head, he drained his beer bottle in three large installments and set the bottle upon the table, feeling even more disturbed than before. Before Ranveer could order for another beer to drown out the confusion that his mind was stirring with all the mixing strands of emotions, there was a huge shout-out in the bar.
"Come on! Let's get the party started! Beer competition!"
"Dude, do you want to kill people already? I think they're pretty tight! Don't want no people dying on my birthday! Not cool!"
"Okay, okay! Yo, Pizan! Round up the unconscious ones and get them to their dorms. The ones on their feet can stay but no alcohol for them. And the ones who've just begun enjoying the party, step forth and enjoy it some more."
The bar slowly emptied away as unconscious or heavily drunk students were sent back to their dorms after half of them putting up a good fight for themselves to stay back. The faculty members had already left early in the evening so that the bar was now only filled with students. More and more students poured into the bar by the time it was eleven and there was twice as much of people now than when Ranveer had entered the bar two hours ago. The bar was packed with the raucous going even louder than before as the beer competition began.
Ranveer drowned away another bottle by the time thirteen rounds were done, the competitors on an all-time rowdy high after chugging down two big mugs of bear as fast as they could swallow away. The noise was getting too much for him to bear. Everything was getting too much for him to bear as all his senses began getting clouded with the fusions of memories and emotions that made him want to rip his hair out from his scalp.
The noise... There was too much noise... He couldn't take it anymore... He couldn't...
"SHUT UP!"
The bar fell dead silent as Ranveer's voice carried across the room like the crack of a whip, everybody being struck dumb by the decibel of it. Ranveer flushed dully, looking thoroughly flabbergasted at his sudden outburst even though he wasn't even in the least sorry about it. Finch's head popped out from between the masses, signalling him to join them.
"Vaghela, would you like to compete against me?"
"What?" asked Ranveer, his mouth agog while Finch stared at him, looking highly amused.
Ranveer couldn't really understand what the Australian was up to because never had any stranger treated him this kindly apart from his Mota Babuji, or even Ishaani for that matter.
"The beer challenge. A large mug of beers. As fast as you can chug it down," explained Finch patiently as all the eyes at the bar were still upon Ranveer.
"I- I don't-"
"I dare you," stated Finch, smirking at him.
Ranveer grumbled underneath his breath, cursing his luck for crossing paths with the strange man who'd only show him kindness in spite of him trying to shoo him away as much as possible. Little did he know...
"Fine. But I don't have that good a capacity."
"Well, then for your bad luck, I've got an exceptionally good capacity. And I've never lost a challenge till date," boasted Finch as Ranveer rolled his eyes at him, scrutinizing the other man with interest. And suddenly, an unwarranted instinct took over him.
"What does the winner get?" Finch looked surprised with the question, but chose to reply anyway.
"Well, you tell me. I'm winning it anyway."
"How about a $1000?" bluffed Ranveer suddenly.
Everyone around them gasped, and Ranveer mentally slapped himself. It must be the alcohol making him talk stupid. Ishaani was right, he agreed grudgingly. He should be shut in a room whenever he was drunk. He had only $7 in his pocket. Where he was to get the rest of the $993 from, he didn't know. But somehow, he was driven by instinct tonight.
Everybody waited with baited breaths to note Finch's reaction, but he only cocked his eyebrow at Ranveer curiously before giving him a nod.
"Fine by me. Besides, the winner takes away pride too, you know," joked Finch, and an uproar of senseless laughing went around the place. More than half the crowd was drunk.
"Oh, just bring on the goddamn mugs already!"
Ranveer sat across Finch at the table as the claustrophobic crowd rounded around them, cheering and whooping at the top of their voices. Two mugs were set across each other as both of them stared at each other in determination. Ranveer knew that he didn't have a $1000 dollars to lose, and yet it was his instinct that told him to keep his nerve steady. Always trust your instinct, Ranveer. It'll never guide you wrong. His mentor's words. He didn't know how he was supposed to win this when he couldn't even stomach half a bottle of desi pauwa and he was already two bottles down tonight.
But his guts kept telling him to trust his instinct.
A blaster hooted somewhere in the distance and Finch leapt upon his mug, Ranveer following suit a split-second later. The crowd went into a crazed overdrive of yelling and cheering as Ranveer slammed his mug in triumph in exactly two and a half minutes, Finch still a quarter glass away. Finch stared at Ranveer in shock, choking on his alcohol and coughing awkwardly.
"Well?" smirked Ranveer, looking slightly tipsy now. Finch looked at him and smiled.
"You call that a bad capacity?" gawked Finch, looked gobsmacked. Ranveer licked away the foam from upon his lips appreciatively.
"Well, this was my best performance so far," admitted Ranveer sheepishly. Both of them eyed each other intently for a few minutes before the former was unable to restrain himself anymore.
"Double or quits?"
Ranveer eyed Finch cautiously, the stock broker in his suddenly coming to life. How he always enjoyed the thrill of a gamble! But he'd already gotten such a good price for winning the competition! What was the point risking it all? Higher the risk, higher the returns, came back the answer to him. But there was a difference between a calculative risk and sheer stupidity. Which path was he set upon?
"Bring it on," whispered Ranveer after some time, bringing his mind and conscience's tussle to an abrupt end as he let instinct take the final decision. A new wave of applause flew around the room as all the onlookers were in for more entertainment. Finch chuckled at Ranveer.
"Best of three?"
"Sure! It's on the house! And so is $2000," he added, and more laughter rang around the room at the sniff of the open challenge that was thrown upon the ground. Finch winked at Ranveer.
Ranveer smiled at Finch lopsidedly as his vision began blurring in bouts of minutes. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he was barely aware about the second round of mugs that were set upon the table, staring at them intoxicatingly. Another hoot of the whistle went in the air as both men lunged at their mugs, drinking away laboriously as the alcohol became difficult to swallow with the same ease, the crowd's cheers only getting more and more maddening.
And yet the solace that the alcohol was spreading upon his senses was something Ranveer found more than welcome. It obliterated everything from his mind - all his responsibilities, his insecurities, his inhibitions, his ambitions, his dreams... and the tormenting longing for Ishaani.
Ranveer set the second glass down after a span of four minutes, his eyes streaming with tears as Finch set the mugs down a minute later, looking like he'd get sick any moment. The cheering got wilder and wilder as the third set was put in front of them, both men looking at each other stupidly. Neither of them even waited for the whistle to blow and they blindly caught hold of their mugs and began chugging away at the fermented liquid as quickly as they could without choking or retching upon it.
Five minutes later, Ranveer set down his glass a split-second before Finch did, and the crowd fell silent before erupting in the rowdiest round of wolf-whistling and applauds for Ranveer. He looked around the room drowsily as he smiled at everyone before his eyes fell upon Finch, who now had a deadpan look upon his face. The crowd gradually elapsed into a spell of silence as all eyes remained upon Finch now.
Finch coughed slowly before retrieving his cheque book from his pocket, his eyes never once leaving Ranveer's own glazing chocolate ones. Writing out a cheque for $2000 in Ranveer's name, he pushed it towards him, the same inscrutable look upon his handsome features.
"Here you go. As promised."
Ranveer eyed him intently for a whole minute before pushing the money back at him. $2000 were more than enough to help him run a couple of months' worth of expenditure, and yet, it somehow didn't appeal to his morals. It was easy money. He never liked easy money.
"I can't accept this."
"Am I too drunk or did you just... refuse?" asked Finch, the slur in his tone making the disbelief in it even more pronounced.
"Well, we're both drunk, I guess," replied Ranveer, and laughed upon his own statement. The room was still silent. Ranveer continued.
"But no. I cannot accept this. I do not accept easy money. It's against my principles."
The whole crowding gasped as they eyed Ranveer with key interest. They'd certainly never seen a specimen like him before. Or any specimen for that matter who'd refuse $2000 that were so ready-made. Finch looked at Ranveer in silence for a couple of minutes before he pushed the money towards him again.
"You've earned this fair and square and I won't have any arguments on this, Vaghela."
"I cannot keep this. This is against my-" protested Ranveer, but Finch cut right through his speech.
"Principles, I know. But you are going to keep what you rightfully earned. I do not hold back one's rightful money. That's against my principles," explained Finch, shooting a smile at Ranveer. It wasn't difficult to tell that Finch had the upper hand over here when it came to getting his point across.
"Its $2000 dollars!" whined Ranveer in a small voice, the resignation and sleepiness in it evident.
"And my self-respect is worth much more. Take it, please."
"Fine," murmured Ranveer as Finch stuffed the cheque into his palm. Ranveer looked at the cheque halfheartedly, and Finch smiled.
"You're a rare breed, Vaghela. I've never seen a man like you before," he commented, and Ranveer gave him a small smile. Finch got up from his place and picked off a filled champagne glass from one of the trays nearby and raised it into the air.
"And that is why, I'd like to propose a toast! To my newest friend, Ranveer Vaghela!"
Everybody in the crowd raised their glasses in the air as Ranveer couldn't help but smile sheepishly at the man who'd shown him such heartwarming affection and given him so much respect. This was a person he would certainly treasure and take the effort to know more. He was different. Gregory Finch was a man who he'd never seen before when it came to this generation. But his thoughts were drowned out by the chorus that rented the air.
"To Ranveer Vaghela!"
Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D
Next chapter:
Epistle 84
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