Chapter 59

LadyMeringue

@LadyMeringue

A/N: Hey there everyone! :D :D Hope all of you are doing well! :D :D Here is the fourth bonus epistle! :D :D This will be the new Epistle 10 as per the chronological order. :) :)

Happy Reading! :D :D

5th September, 1996:

I never knew that Janmashtami could even be so much fun in the city!

Honestly, after the kind of Janmashtami we would have back home, I didn't expect anything grand from the city. Especially the kind of society we're a part of. But I'm pleasantly surprised. Celebrating Lord Krishna's birth has always been an occasion of fun and sweets for us, not to forget the dahi handi that we get to break! All us boys in the village would just wait for the precise hour when we'd begin making our formations and would start the ascend towards that earthen pot suspended mid-air. And since I was the most athletic from all the boys, I'd always get that golden chance to break the handi since I was six.

But I didn't get to do it for the first time in five years because of my injury. The doctors have asked me to take it easy for a whole year because stomach wounds are apparently very dangerous and are tricky to heal. Even though the rupture has been healed fully, the doctors don't want me taking any risk with regards to my health. So that was the only drawback about an otherwise brilliant day (apart from the daunting conversation with Baba, but later on that)!

It's been nearly three months for this entire incident and things have been really calm at the house. Mota Babuji makes sure that I have no problems whatsoever and am not burdened too much either with the housework. He keeps a tab on our school activities and makes sure that we're not having any trouble with any of our schoolmates. Ever since the ragging incident, Mota Babuji has become a lot more alert in this aspect. Sharman is supposed to be going to boarding school next year and Mota Babuji has half a mind not to send him there, but lets see how that goes. I don't think that Sharman will honestly have any problem since he doesn't have anything against his background that could be held against him perhaps being an Indian at the end of the day. Mota Babuji says that the Americans are rather racist, but after seeing the way things are over here, I'd beg to differ.

But all that can wait.

Like I've been telling you, Ishaani and I finally performed the play were we supposed to put up with all the other kids of the house for Janmashtami. Everyone had different skits symbolizing different phases of Lord Krishna's life, and as fate could have it, Ishaani and I had to portray the entire Radha-Krishna story. It was very awkward at first when Vishaka Kaki told us about it since she was in charge of the skits, but Ishaani seemed to be only too happy to be paired up opposite me. She said that if she had to play Radha to a Krishna, there was no one better-suited for the role than myself for it. And only I know how I've had to pinch myself from not blushing and giving myself away. Even more so for making myself believe that Ishaani actually said that even though she obviously didn't mean it that way.

Obviously she didn't - I'm her best friend!

So anyway, in the morning, we finished the pooja first before all of Sharman's and Devarsh's friends came over for the dahi handi. Ishaani and I were quick to notice that none of the boys who we'd had our altercation with were invited. Well, it was rather fun seeing the high society boys behave like normal children for once and try to break the dahi handi by creating a towering formation. Obviously the city is no match to the kind of hullabaloo we make back in the village, but it's about the most fun I've had over here as well. Sweets, snacks, music, laughter and happiness! Why wouldn't it be amazing? Even though I wanted to climb up and shoulders of the boys and break the handi for myself but Baba, Mota Babuji, Falguni Maa and Ishaani held me back firmly. They said that it would be stupid if I strained myself like that but I knew what their real concern was. He didn't want me anywhere near the breed of boys who'd nearly killed me.

So all the elders of the house plus Gauri, Ishaani, myself and baby Prateik were witness the fun of the Janmashtami celebration, all three of us in our costumes. Ishaani had a rather cute head piece made for me with a peacock feather perched in the front. It was a perfect fit, and a rather pretty one. She wouldn't tell me where she got it from until I overheard Sharman and Devarsh talking yesterday about how Ishaani had been insistent about buying that particular head piece when they'd visited the antiques shop last week.

That girl is really extraordinary. First the jacket, and now this.

She loves to splurge money upon me, and I love the fact that she sees me as a worthy friend to have. But that doesn't mean that I'm comfortable with it. I don't know how am I to repay her for all of this, and Baba faces the same crisis with Mota Babuji. He just received a watch from him for his services, and Baba is lost. The watch is rather expensive, and Baba's afraid that the baksheesh is something he'll have to pay up for with Baa, even though Mota Babuji has assured him that this has nothing to do with her.

Both father and daughter are the same - stubborn and wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

Ishaani may say that she doesn't belong to this house because of her blood, but nobody can say that she's not Harshad Parekh's daughter. She's every bit his blood, both by nature and by heart. It's no wonder why Mota Babuji loves her so much and doesn't shy away from showering her with a father's love even though she's still reluctant on that footing. I just hope she realized what she has in her life before its too late. It's not a topic I can talk to Ishaani about because it's extremely intimate and something that I find myself incapable of asking of her, but I hope that she comes to terms with her fears and accepts Mota Babuji as her father soon. But that's the discussion for another day since Mota Babuji has also forbidden me of speaking to her about this.

He says that what she's been through is not easy, especially when she's never had the shadow of her father in the foundation years of her life. And to hear people talk about her lineage and how her father abandoned her is something that would make any child weary of trusting another person again, far more accept that said person as her father. No child ever can accept another person in place of their original parent and Mota Babuji says that he's made peace with this fact. And this is one amongst several reasons why I love him so much. He's just so caring and human in this house full of anomalies that I wonder whether he even belongs to this world where he's touted to be the King of Dalal Street, whatever that means.

And maybe that's why Ishaani and myself stick out too - because we don't belong to this world. And as we played Krishna and Radha with as much grace and finesse that we could, Mota Babuji had to say the same thing. We were surprisingly the best (we had a natural flair, noted everyone) and even got a box full of sweets as our prize that we both shared in the store room together. Its our secret haven, so all our celebrations happen there. I tasted all the sweets before telling Ishaani which ones were the best, letting her have them all. Even during the pooja we got another box of sweets just because we looked the part so well, although there all the kids got a box of sweets for themselves. Baa was surprisingly docile, and even though she may have not commented upon our act at all, she atleast didn't got about calling us servant and illegitimate, which was more than enough for the day.

And amidst all the festivities, this is the first time I've genuinely been treated like a child of the house and it's a strangely unsettling experience. Mota Babuji lent me a kurta for evening's rituals where married couples are supposed to swing Lord Krishna's idol in the paalki. Since Mota Babuji and Falguni Maa are going to be celebrating their first Janmashtami together, this was a extra incentive for all of us to be dressed our best. Ishaani had a beautiful blue lehenga choli that made me wonder again what she saw in me as her friend. I was unworthy of her from all angles, and my borrowed clothes made me realize this even more.

Evening was a vibrant affair with relatives and guests pouring in, showering their best wishes to everyone at the household. Unfortunately, Ishaani and I had to remain separate since Falguni Maa had caught hold of her, taking her all over the place like a show dog while Baba and I were out parking the cars and collecting the gifts on behalf of the guests. But it was still a very good day considering everything, and I finally got to know that people in the cities can celebrate festivities like normal people too. The lustre and sham is too much, but then again, isn't everything when it came to power? And that brought my thoughts back to Ishaani once again as I managed to steal glances at her from time to time, admiring how beautiful she really was.

Not just her face, no. Her heart and her soul. That's what really pulls me towards her in spite of all the odds.

Maybe Baba noticed my love sick looks because he happened to bring the topic up out of nowhere once the party was done with and everyone had retired to the rooms. We servants obviously didn't have a right to eat from the buffet served out to the guests, so Baba and I contended ourselves with samosas and chutney before Baba chose to have almost a bottle of desi pauwa. It's probably the only habit I disapprove of my father, but it's the only thing that keeps him going without Maa, so I don't say anything. Technically, having alcohol is banned in the house, and if Baa would ever find out that we have a nice cozy stack in the servants' quarters, she'll have a heart attack. But we have our own network, so it's a nice little secret as of now.

But I digress.

"So how did you enjoy today?" asked Baba, filling himself another glass of pauwa while I sat beside him, stretching my legs after the long, tiring day I'd had.

"It was brilliant. Although nothing beats the celebrations we have back home," I added, and Baba gave me a sleepy smile. And then, I remembered that Maa was supposed to call today.

"Did you get to speak to Maa?" I questioned Baba, and this time, his nod was instantaneous.

"Oh yes. Your mother missed you terribly today. She'd made all your favourite dishes too. But she did say that no one could break the handi in your absence this time," replied Baba, suddenly looking forlorn. He missed Maa a lot these days and has been rather withdrawn since the past few days. So I decided to let him bask in the intoxication of the pauwa, changing the direction of the conversation.

"How come?" I asked, wondering why no one could break the pot. Baba smiled sleepily.

"I don't know, really. But they somehow couldn't manage it this year," he replied, his head drooping. He was almost half a bottle down by then. And since desi pauwa is much, much stronger than the western drinks, the effect was bound to show that quickly.

"Not even Dharmin?" I inquired further, remembering my neighbour who was second best to me when it came to this. Baba shook his head despondently.

"He fractured his leg instead," informed Baba, and I was taken by a sudden urge to laugh. The one chance he had to actually do what he claimed he was best at for years and he ended up fracturing his leg in the first try itself.

"He's an idiot," I mumbled underneath my breath but to my dismay, I was loud enough for Baba to catch me. In all earnest, his hearing gets sensitive when he'd drunk, so he ends up catching on to whispers as well. My bad.

"And so are you. You wanted to climb today in spite of your condition," he reprimanded to my utmost surprise, suddenly not looking that intoxicated anymore. His eyes were serious; the worry in them disturbed me, awakening a slight guilt.

"Baba, I'm fine! Trust me," I added rather lamely, knowing that I still had to take things easily. Even the slightest overexertion hurt me at times, and I experienced a spasm just after dinner. Apparently, Baba happened to notice the same.

"Oh really. Then why did I see you catching your stomach some time back in pain?"

"I... That..." I stuttered, knowing that there was no way to turn this thing around now. I didn't bother coming up with a satisfactory response.

"You can lie to yourself, Ranveer, but you can't lie to me. Remember that," remarked Baba suddenly, and there was something about the way his eyes gleamed in serious contemplation that only made my uneasiness more pronounced. I realized later why.

"Err, when did Maa phone?" I asked, risking a change of topic. Baba drained his glass empty before replying to me at length.

"When you were busy fighting with Ishaani upon the sweets," he replied, letting his back slump upon the hard wood of the bedside. An unconscious smile crossed upon my lips at the mention of Ishaani's name, and Baba was quick to notice.

"You should have called me," I muttered reproachfully. Even I have been wanting to talk to Maa since so many days, and the fact that I missed such a golden opportunity to do so did kind of put me off. God knows when I'll get to talk to her next.

"I didn't want to disturb you. You were lost in your own world of fantasies," remarked Baba suddenly his tone now shrewd. His tone caught my fullest attention as I sat up straight, giving him a intrigued look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, trying to read what was going on in Baba's mind, but in vain. His expression was unfathomable, and the sudden enigma only increased my ill-boding.

"Why don't you tell me?" he counters in return, his eyes now turning suggestive. Ah, ofcourse. It was about Ishaani. I'm sure Maa must have told Baba to have a talk with me about it. She still isn't entirely comfortable with my friendship with Ishaani even though she's as grateful as always that I have someone here who takes care of me so much. But she still doesn't approve of it on the whole. And the way Ishaani and I were bonding better and better with every passing day must have definitely flagged some signals for Maa more than Baba. Maybe knowing about today's play was the last straw.

"Baba, if you're thinking what Maa is-" I began but Baba shook his head, cutting my speech.

"You really love her now, don't you?" asked Baba suddenly, now leaning forward. His question took me by surprise, the gasp that escaped my lips a give-away.

"What? Baba, you're getting silly. It's why I don't let you drink!" I added rather forcefully, trying to pull Baba's arm around my shoulders so that I could hoist him up. He didn't resist.

"This is my only ever vice after your mother, Ranveer," whispered Baba sleepily as I put him upon the cot, taking off his spectacles. His dark circles were beginning to get pronounced.

"Baba, you should go to sleep," I spoke in a much softer tone as I stroked his balding head slowly, watching his eyes open and close once in every few seconds. Any moment now, he'd succumb to a good night's sleep.

"You didn't answer my question," he reminded as his eyes shot open, the genial brown of them sparkling in the moonlight. They looked wary, harbouring a fear I couldn't understand.

"She's my best friend, Baba. That's it," I whispered, hoping that Baba would just fall asleep. I pulled off his chappals and covered him up with the sheets. Baba's eyes shut again, his breathing now even as I continued to stare at him at a loss for words. How long was this going to go on till I took all of his burdens upon my shoulder? I'd barely arrived upon an answer when I felt Baba grasp my hand.

"Nobody gives their life for someone just like that," he whispered suddenly, catching me off-guard. It was a surprise that I didn't fall off the cot in shock. My look of astonishment quickly changed to that of exasperation as I turned to look at Baba, who in turn had my undivided attention.

"I would have had it been anyone else too. Maa always told me to value loyalty above all. I owe this to Mota Babuji," I explained, wondering who was I ultimately lying to - Baba or myself. Even Baba seemed to have the same thought for the next moment, he gave me a shrewd smile. His drunken self was unpredictable.

"But Ishaani isn't your duty now, is she? And she's definitely a lot more than your best friend too," suggested Baba, and for once, I found myself willing to accept the truth rather than simply find for convenient half-truths. If anyone would understand my feelings for Ishaani, it was Baba.

"She's the person who accepts me for who I am, Baba. She's the person who sees me as a human and a friend. If I can do anything to keep her happy and safe, it'd be nothing short of an honour," I confessed, my own words ringing around me in a sing-song. And ridiculous though I know they must have sounded from the mouth of an almost ten-year old, it was the biggest truth of my life.

"Be careful with what you're playing with, Ranveer. It's a fire that will take you down eventually," advised Baba as our eyes met, an understanding passing between us. These were definitely Maa'as words, I knew. She'd told me this the last time I'd spoken to her post my accident. I smiled.

"If that's in my destiny, so be it. If I have to burn myself for her, I'll do it without a second thought. Atleast I'll burn with the satisfaction that the one who I'm burning myself for is worth it all," I replied, my gaze never once breaking away from Baba's. Even though the smile remained upon my face, Baba didn't share my sentiments. If anything, he looked even more worried so. He strengthened his grip upon my hand, speaking something that I'll remember for a long, long time to come.

"She's a moon you can admire. Whose reflection you can stare at in the water. Whose stories you can hear and put yourself to sleep with. Who you can yearn for but can never yield. You cannot have her, Ranveer - just like Radha and Krishna who were madly in love, but could never have each other because they found their love in separation. Eleven years of their childhood together was all they had before being apart for all their life on Earth. You may not realize the part you played today, but what Krishna had for Radha was unrequited and unconditional love. They lived within each other, breathed for each other and they were each other because Radha was the living form of Krishna's love. She was the form his love took. They may have married others, but their souls were one in the world before and the world hereafter. One soul split into two. Ranveer, love doesn't always determine that you end up with a person. Sometimes, you love is not meant to be for this world, even though it may live on eternally in the hereafter. Sacrifice is what makes your love breathe a story of its own in this world. And between you and Ishaani, your loyalty and your social status will always stand in between."

I remained silent for several minutes, letting the impact of Baba's words sink within. And even then, words failed me. The magnitude of what Baba had spoken was something that had never struck me before, and now that I think about it, it's frightening! Perhaps it was fear that had left me gagged, my mind unable to come up with anything to say when it came to love. This was not a price I could see myself paying even though I've never seen Ishaani as something to acquire.

"But our status can be changed," I finally said when I could come up with nothing better. Baba chuckled, once again standing on the tenterhooks of sleep.

"No one ever forgets the beginnings you come from, Ranveer. Remember that," he whispered in yet another word of advice. I was seized by a sudden surge of defying everything my father had just said. If I could survive what I did, I could definitely defy all the odds. I would. I was not named a fighter just for the sake of it!

"That's now, Baba. One day, I swear upon the very same moon, that I'll give you and Maa a status of your own in this society. Not as servants or drivers, but as Ranveer Vaghela's son. I will become a big man and make the two of you proud. Mark my words. And the day I do that, the moon will walk through my threshold. I'll make myself worthy enough that she does," I added, and Baba gave me a sleepy smile. His eyes were almost shut when he hit the nail.

"I have no doubt about that. It's why your mother and I are sacrificing everything for you. But the real question is - will the moon be your destination or your obstruction?"

Before I could answer, Baba fell asleep. I doubt that he's going to remember this conversation. He doesn't remember a thing when he's inebriated. But the question he left the conversation at has been nagging at my mind. Could Baba be right? Was the moon only to be yearned of, never to be yielded? Was I being too ambitious for a pauper living in the illusion of capturing the world in his rough little palm, hoping that the moon would accept him for who he was? Was love meant to be that difficult and is there anyone who understood the kind of love I have for her? Was I going to get a chance to prove my worth in this senseless world? But most importantly, will I ever be worthy of her in this lifetime?

Or like Baba was not so subtle in pointing out - was the fate of my love going to be like Krishna's?

Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D