Posted:
Hello all the wonderful people in the IKRS forum,
I am Teddy. I started watching IKRS about a week ago, and since then the show has grown on me. Here's my first attempt at writing a short fictional encounter between Viplav-Dhaani.
Hope you all will enjoy it. I will be very glad if it reaches maximum number of IKRS fans.
Characters: Viplav, Dhaani, two (imaginary) friends of Viplav and the famous 'ghat' of Benaras 😊
It's written entirely from Viplav's perspective 😳
Disclaimer : The characters are the creative properties of channel and makers. I own nothing. No intention to hurt any religious beliefs and apologies in advance for any mistake.
Shaapit (Cursed)
The three of us were chilling at our familiar spot, the 'ghat'.
People normally go to clubs or discotheque for hanging out with pals...and here we were, lolling around in one of the holiest places in India, doing sweet nothing, with thoughts bubbling inside our heads that were far from spiritual.
Lying spread eagle on the cool stone, I stared at the sky blankly.
My mind was far from blank though. The strange restlessness, which had accompanied me life-long, only grew stronger as days inched towards my departure.
"Bhai, America jaa ke tum hum logon ko bhul toh nahi jaoge?" said my buddy DJ, sounding uncharacteristically thoughtful.
DJ, aka Dwij Nath Pandit, was one of those dreamer from the small town who did little except dreaming.
I knew them too well, as a few years back, I was one among them too.
DJ's long list of wishes starts right from his name. "Seriously, what was maa-babujee thinking? Doing my naam karan or taking revenge on the newborn baby!" He had this special talent of tireless ranting for hours about the things that's wrong in his life.
It's difficult to pacify a guy whose problems start with his name.
Take my other friend, Kundan Damodar Shashtri who has rechristened himself as KD.
"Baba, samjha kar yaar. Nobody in her sane mind would date a guy named Kundan Shastri." KD used to say ruefully.
He had a point though.
"Baba, itna soch mein kyon padh gaye? Tum humko, Banaras ko miss karoge na?" KD prodded again.
I pretended not to hear him. Perhaps because the answer was not known to me either.
Maybe I was scared of the truth and even more scared to say it out loud.
This ancient city, with it's dusty, narrow lanes and people with narrower minds suffocated me sometimes...and I was not the one who could be chained easily.
"Tumhe kissi Angrej ke ghar paida hona chahiye tha." my sister used to say.
Perhaps she had been telling the truth all along.
"Baba, woh dekho tumhari item aa rahi hai." DJ's voice cut through the tangled web of thought fogging my mind.
It amused me sometimes how he had no sense of place and propriety of language at all. This meant he was free from the shackles of decorum and prejudices as well.
I straightened myself up and stretched my hands. The unmissable white saree caught my eyes instantly.
A carefree gust of wind floated from the side of the river, ruffling my hair. It then changed direction abruptly and started playing with her saree.
"Main abhi aaya." I jumped down on the dusty road, busily wiping the back of my denim with my hands.
For a few minutes, I followed the white shadow without thinking.
Calling her or trying to stop her would not work, specially in the busy street. I had tried that before and each encounter ended with her near-magical disappearance from my eyesight.
Soon we reached a deserted and relatively dark lane. The dark curtains of evening was settling fast. There was nobody in the vicinity, except us.
I cleared my throat and called out "Ae ladki."
She stopped dead on her way. Then she turned round with a painfully sluggish motion. Those big, almond-shaped orbs fell on me. I could see the transformation from wild-eyed curiosity to blazing contempt in a span of few moments.
I took long strides towards her, lest she vanished again. She seemed rooted to the spot though, showing no sign of movement.
"Hi. Remember me?" I was standing on her way, deliberately blocking her path. I'd be damned if she escaped unceremoniously this time.
I was looking straight into her eyes. Strangely, she didn't avert her gaze. We stood there in silent, neither backing down from this cold war, before she spoke.
"Tum mera picha kyon kar rahe ho?" her voice was eerily calm, which was a little unnerving, but I didn't show it on my face.
"Tumhe pata toh hai. Aur kitni baar bulwaogi? Achcha chalo I will say it one more time. I. AM. SORRY. Aab toh mujhe maaf kardo. Warna dadi mujhse baat nahi karegi." I folded my hands dramatically, to emphasize my point.
"Nahi milegi. Aab jao." she was about to walk away when I gripped her wrist.
"Aare, tumhe baat samajh mein nahi aati kya? I said sorry, aab baat ko khatam karo na. TV serial jaisa kheench kyon rahi ho yaar ek issue ko?" I was getting exasperated with her antics.
"Hath chhodo, warna bahut pachtaoge." She tried to free her arm from my grip.
"Pehle promise karo poori baat sune bina bhaag nahi jaogi. Waise Milkha Singh tumhara rishtedaar hain kya?" I loosened my grip and stepped back.
She was eyeing me through her long lashes. Finally she nodded and I released her arm.
She whirled round instantly and hurried across the lane, trying to escape from me, apparently.
"I'd be damned if I let you go again." I muttered under my breath.
"Aye ladki. Ruk jao. Arre suno toh sahi." I hurried after her.
"Suno. Main akhri baar bol rahi hoon. Mera picha mat karo. " She pointed her fingers at me threateningly. "Aur yeh 'ladki, ladki' kya laga rakha hai? Naam hai mera...Dhaani, samjhe?"
"All right, all right, Dhaani jee, aapko 'ladki' bulane ke liye phir se maafi chahta hoon. Aap doh minute meri baat sunenge, please." I threw my hands in the air apologetically.
"Thik hai. Jo kehna hai, usse jaldi kaho aur yeh tamashaa khatam karo." she gave me a deadly glare.
"Yeh jagah aise baaton ke liye sahi nahi hai. Kahin aur chale?" I smiled at her encouragingly.
"Kahan?" she clearly had trust issues, specially with me. Well, who could blame her!
"Koi aisi jagah, jahaan itna sannata na ho."
*************************************************
We were standing right outside the badi maidan, where the 'Swatantrata divas mela' was in full swing.
After standing nearly for five minutes and suffering numerous mosquito bites, I began to lose it.
"Ab andar chale, ya uske liye bhi invitation deni padhegi?" I gestured her to move ahead.
"Nahi nahi, main kaise andar ja sakti hoon! Dimaag kharab ho gaya hai tumhara? Koi agar dekh liya toh hum soch bhi nahi sakte kya anarth hoga". she shuddered at the thought.
"Arre, yeh kya baat hui! Azaadi ka mela hai. Thodi azadi toh tumhe bhi milni chahiye." I was honestly taken aback by her reaction.
She looked at me with a strange expression in her eyes. Her lips quivered, as if she wanted to say something, but finally chose to remain silent.
"Look, you won't get this opportunity again. You see those girls. Some of them are wearing saffron, some of them green, and some of them are wearing white. If someone sees you, we can easily tell that you are a part of the 'Swatantrata parade'." I mentally patted myself for this brilliant idea. "Aab chale? Mithai ki itni achchi khusboo aa rahi hai, mere muh me toh pani aa raha hai."
She finally stepped inside the carnival, somehow reluctantly though.
************************************************************
NEXT PART : SEE BELOW 😉
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