28 April 2016
Goa
Parth had retired early to bed after a supposedly tiring day. Dev had taken him to their rehearsals first, and then to the beaches. Though Parth had spent the entire time lying on the sands, while Dev captured every wave through every angle possible, and filled his gallery with a pretty two hundred and six new images, he was still less tired than Parth.
While home Parth had incessantly wanted a drink. They had a few shots and now he lay fast asleep.
Dev sat on the couch at the verandah and worked on the latest tune he had in mind. He had already jotted down seven new compositions, but the tunes had not yet fined up. He needed to work all night maybe.
An interview at 6:45 pm tomorrow. Should I cancel? I hate Vaibhav for dragging me into all these.
Devrath Dixit, though vivaciously energetic on stage, was purely camera shy and not only that, he needed time to connect to new people. The interviewer would be such a stranger who would poke into everything and how dumb he would fall before the cameras!
Devrath definitely hated his claim to fame.
Today at the beaches he had very carefully worn a big round hat, shades and a scarf. And whenever some inquisitive eyes stared for long he would certainly take out his phone and pretend dialing a number, " Hello... Susheel here... " , and people would stop judging and stop staring.
Dev laughed on his own. Escapades.
Just then, a phone began ringing at the drawing room. Dev took a while to identify it as being Parth's. He guessed his tiredness to be the cause of not settling his belongings, otherwise Parth was very careful in claiming things that were his.
Dev came to the phone.
Shayara calling
A few seconds of utter uncertainty. Six years... and now finally?
Dev had found her Facebook profile long after he had first met her at the competitions but definitely couldn't catch up, even long after he had met Parth, and had discovered that Parth was with a girl with this name, the same girl actually. Maybe she had created an account much late. Dev had got her contact saved since then. But the funny thing was that, he had never sent a request, not even a 'thank you' message, and a call was a distant thought. Only recently had he just...
Anyways, the very strange, out of track and weird feeling he held for her, was a feeling he couldn't even name as an infatuation, a feeling that intermingled with a voice, and an innocent face, and his sister... nevertheless, a feeling that had kept a stranger intact in his heart for six years now...
The 'feeling' was calling today, and he was on the line.
Slowly, he pressed the green.
" Parth... Parth... I'll leave this job too. No one understands my potential, no one wants to give me a chance! Why the f**k? I. I... today I submitted a project compiling ten weirdest incidents of Kolkata, to the boss. I had been working on this for seven days now. I had told you right? How a 126 years old lady at Rashbihaari runs a gymnasium? How a labrador, Lucy at Bhawanipore is alive for thirty years now and still has the healthiest body? I had told you right? I compiled ten such. You would be just speechless. Why wouldn't the audience love such things? I did so much work... ran down the whole of Kolkata, to just make this project the best... and this..m this asshole, he just threw the file on my face. I ... I cannot work this way Parth. People are too mainstream. And I'm so weird... And if I leave job again, everyone will screw me..but...but...I... "
Dev just went on listening, without a word. Shayara took to sobbing now. And Dev could relate to each word, each pause, each complain, each sob...
He cleared his throat.
" Shayara... Parth is asleep. I am his friend. Devrath. You can call me Dev. "
The sob was deliberately paused. The person over the phone didn't at all expect that she had just blurted her frustrations on someone else.
Parth himself was a rare occasion, who was confided to only when things went out of control for Shayara. And then...a third person? Whom she didn't know at all?
The call ended immediately.
" Shayara... Shayara... "
Dev stared at the blank screen. But... he had so much to tell to that poor soul? He was about to dial again, when his conscience pulled back like a string.
I should never do that.
****
Kolkata
Shayara threw the phone on the ground, splitting it to parts. And she herself ducked her head into a pillow.
Why did I call Parth Shukla? Would he ever, just ever reciprocate my feelings? Still... everytime I try reaching him. Only to get hurt zillions, or end up with some blunder. Like right now.
Shayara had never seen Devrath in person. But of course, she had been deeply moved by his songs. She had just few days back come to know that the Devrath Dixit she had been growing fond of was Parth's good friend.
Any other girl would have jumped up and asked for him, but Shayara was highly disinterested with almost everything.
Like right now she could have easily exchanged a few words with the current singing sensation of India. But no. She's so deeply engrossed in her own pain that nothing else bothered.
After completing her degree course in Journalism from DU, she had immediately got a job in Delhi itself. But no. Her life wasn't hers right? It's always more of others.
Baba instructed.
" I'm not doing well. I want you to return home. I'm confident enough that you'll get good jobs here."
Yes. Baba was confident with her ability unlike many others. And therefore she had to return, leaving behind Delhi, and... and her newly found love, music.
Kolkata choked her always. Kolkata never asked her if she loved guitar, if she dated drums, if she slept with music. It only dumped onto her, 'RESPONSIBILITIES.' More so after her father passed away a year later.
Responsibilities of bearing a household. Responsibilities of maintaining relationships however fake they were. Responsibilities of visiting workplaces that were either dirty or didn't value her.
What is this life for? I don't have a single school friend I can look upto. Why did I spend my school life only with books and create no human connections? What am I left with now?
A sound happened at the door. Dhruv was back from some night club.
I don't want to live anymore. The uncool, weird, unnecessary Shayara Dasgupta, nothing will change places if you leave the world.
******
Goa
" Won't you ring back? "
Dev stared at Parth, astonished.
" No use." , Parth yawned even after a good night sleep and a huge cup of coffee.
" She has already left job and is sleeping peacefully. " , Parth chuckled.
" She leaves and takes up jobs like you and me have lunch and dinner. So usual of her. Imagine, she left job at The Statesman just because some colleague mocked her. Then she took up a job at a tiny news channel, 'Kolkata TV' , and left that too because they didn't use her completely according to her. At the heights of stupidity, she joined a minimally circulated newspaper, and left the job again because her boss watches blue films. " , with this Parth broke into a hysterical laughter.
Dev smiled too.
" And now she's again started with the 'wastage of her potential' drama. Another small news channel, some AND News, why the hell will they air weird and stupid things when their breaking news too gets the minimum trp? You should take up jobs according to your potential, if you feel you have high ones ...and not blame them that they're unable to recognise. "
Parth stood up and went to the washroom.
Devrath kept sitting. He had gone completely blank.
Parth shouted from the washroom. " I must say her mother is liberal enough bearing with her tantrums. And yet...she's dissatisfied with her family too."
Devrath remained utterly silent.
Somewhere in the distance, he could visualise a girl ... running vigorously, chased by things she wanted to get rid of, things that choked her in every way, and yet she had no escapade...
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