"When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew" - William Shakespeare
Summer
It was a Wednesday in July. Breathlessly hot. And he was waiting for a glimpse of her in the Medical College canteen.
This was after the unpleasant circumstances that they had encountered following Dadaji's death. And he had been wrong. And for the first time in his life, he had not been ashamed to admit it. He was wrong about her trying to influence Dadaji, at his weakest and most vulnerable moment, to get her name included in his will. THE will. The will of one of the richest families in Mumbai.
But she hadn't. While his heart had refused to believe in her involvement at the very instance when the will was being read out by their lawyer; his mind had rebelled. He had rebelled at the very idea of the great Nachiket Khanna, the super Cardiologist in the making, having to marry the quiet, reticent Ragini Patel, in order to get direct access to the family fortune.
He knew that his accusations had hurt her deeply. Not that she thought of him as a morally altruistic person either. To her, he was the eternal Casanova, the philanderer who chased everything that moved around in skirts. She had also revolted then against the clauses mentioned in the will. He knew - a Ragini Patel would never even think of marrying a Nachiket Khanna, even in her wildest dreams.
He was a senior, already into his internship at a reputed Medical Facility in the city. But he always returned to the College Canteen to find her sitting in a corner, taking small bites of food, as she poured into her books; totally oblivious to the din and hue and cry all around her. Occasionally meeting his eyes as he sipped his usual cup of coffee, but resolutely looking away.
He knew she had been working long hours post College to pay for her degree, and hence was too motivated to notice him.
To notice him noticing everything about her. To notice that he was slowly loving every bit of her. To notice that he was in fact falling in love with her.
Something that had not happened when they were under the same roof. Something that was happening now that they were apart, not that they were ever together, in the proper sense of the term, nachiket thought. He realised that she would never even understand what was happening to him, following her rebuff. His accusations had hurt her badly and he was yet to offer her an olive branch, officially.
And then one day, she had quietly vanished from his life. And he hadn't known what to do.
Until a year later, when he met her once again in his very own Hospital, working at the Nurses Station. They had gazed into each other's eyes for a moment when they first met, and he had known that her dream had half blossomed only. And somewhere, somehow he knew he was to blame - though he didn't know how or for what. Though she never made him feel so. But she continued daily like a good soldier, working her way through everybody's heart. Everybody loved her.
And Nachiket hadn't known then what to do with his feelings for her. He had tried, but couldn't find a suitable way to express himself all this time, since she had walked away from his home, straight into his heart.
He hadn't known what to tell her, because he found it difficult to believe it himself. But deep in his heart he knew - he could not think of anybody else. But he was equally convinced that she would rebuff him again, so he kept quiet. And they had conveniently continued their professional charade.
And then there was Seminal Conference they went to attend, along with a few of their colleagues. Things changed slightly as they started knowing a wee bit more about each other.
While the world complained and congested, the two of them were somehow thrown together, discussing and arguing as they walked, though their voices caressed. He slung his suit jacket carelessly over a shoulder; she watched his graceful movements with a wistful eye.
Her posture was proud, straight and tall, keeping up with him. And when they all moved around with the teeming hundreds, his hand gently guided her around.
She wore a secret smile when he did it.
She had spied an ice cream counter and had glanced at it longingly. But they had had no time and so she turned away.
He saw it all and filed it away for another day.
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Another week and a few more days found them back at the same corner. Still hot, ice cream man still there, still selling vanilla and chocolate, but now he offered bottled water, too.
She bought one, handing over a hundred rupees note, shaking drops from the clear plastic while waiting for change. She walked to the corner, not noticing that she did so alone.
She missed him a second later, turning around to be greeted with a double scoop of the vanilla swirl, topped with chocolate. She looked up at him, trying to admonish but actually grateful, and his eyes twinkled at her in invitation. She laid her hand on his and leaned forward, wrapping her fingers around his, as her eyes shone with joy and excitement, as she took the dripping cone away from his sticky fingers.
He stared after her, cleaning off his fingers with a tissue, wondering what she would say if he asked for a bite.
In summer, she said maybe.
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Autumn
He chased her while they worked together at the Hospital, in their individual capacities. She eluded capture.
On a Saturday late evening, they went for a walk. A walk till the spot where she would board the bus.
The path crunched as they strolled. Wind ruffled their hair, but it had a nice, calming feel to it.
The evening before, they'd sat together in a dark theatre, with some other colleagues and watched people fall in love. She wished it really could be that easy, but if wishes were horses she'd have ridden off into the sunset with him long ago.
She had noticed his sincerity but her head was not convinced. Her heart wanted to rush to his, but this was THE Nachiket Khanna that she was thinking about. She knew what he was asking for, every moment of their day, but what if he broke her trust and her heart in process?
On the way to the car, his right hand swung next to her left, asking to be held. She watched it sway back and forth out of the corner of her eye, but the more she thought about it, the more intimate it became, and she couldn't make the gesture.
Today, he had his hands in his pockets.
She knew he needed to touch, knew he didn't share her reservations about tactile connections. She didn't know how to tell him his need could be overwhelming.
As they waited for the bus, they watched leaves make patterns as they fluttered around gently.
He reached for her. She let him, just let him, and he realised it wasn't enough.
He asked her what was wrong. She didn't answer. He pushed. She shook her head.
'Nachiket, it's not you' she said. 'It's me. Please understand. You're asking more of me than I can give.'
She said she needed some time, and she boarded the bus. He stayed behind as his heart cried softly.
In summer, she'd said maybe. In autumn, she said no.
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Winter
They stayed colleagues, though it was somewhat harder to remain friends.
She'd never thought innuendo could be frosty. She didn't know any more, and was often met with a cold shoulder, on most situations.
Time passed. She found herself watching him, trying unsuccessfully to find out, without thawing, how much she'd hurt him.
Shivering at the stinging cold inside the ICU, she refused to dwell on might-have-been.
She often took refuge there, amongst patients and colleagues who weren't offended by her briskness.
Bleak days became black nights as she struggled to reach a pinprick of light in the distance that held out a faint hope of shelter, of companionship and warmth.
But when she got there, there was nothing, absolutely nothing. She'd wake exhausted, sad ... alone. But still on her chosen path.
If she took him into her heart, it would shatter if she lost him. It was not worth it. It simply wasn't.
But it is human nature to ask what if. Being human, she did.
...
It was a Tuesday when she had an epiphany.
It was a difficult surgery and Nachiket had pulled it off. She knew he had been stressed throughout and had wanted to reach out. But had resisted, knowing well that there were others as well. Her heart had saddened at the thought.
She saw him outside the Hospital, sometime later, standing in front of his black Mercedes, hands in his pockets as he spoke casually to another Doctor, a specialist at the Neurology Department. Dr Devika had been interested in Dr Khanna since day one, Ragini knew. Dr Devika's hand was on his upper arm, and she leant towards him as she spoke.
He had looked up at Ragini, and he was smiling, his face illuminated by the light from the Hospital reception area.
She had smiled tentatively and walked away towards the bus stand, pretending not to notice how his smile faded as she did so.
He had joined her in a while as she waited for the signal to turn red so she could cross the road to take the bus.
They had talked briefly before the bus arrived, whisking her away to her destination.
That night she dreamed of the evening again, and she shivered involuntarily. But this time, she found him waiting for her in front of the car. He had wrapped a silk scarf around her neck and led her to the bus stand.
When she woke, the sun was shining outside her window with a beckoning brilliance. She smiled.
He found her outside in the Hospital lawn, speaking to some kids, playing around and laughing. She had looked up to him and smiled, and he knew that she wasn't afraid any more.
In summer, she'd said maybe. In autumn, she'd said no. In winter, her eyes asked if they could try again.
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Spring
This was her favorite of all the seasons, life blossoming and becoming and leaping.
She was growing, too; becoming a participant in the dance he'd started, finding the courage to leap with him, though she kept her eyes wide open.
On a Friday, she asked if he had plans for the next evening. He said he'd meet her at a local cafe that had opened a week before. He did, and brought her red roses.
They had spring rolls and buttered scones and both decided that the food was very good.
Over vintage vanilla ice cream, topped with hot chocolate sauce, in one dish and two spoons, their hands touched more than once.
The cafe, as a part of their promotional activities, offered fortune cookies to all. Her fortune cookie told her the truth: "One cannot control the wind, but one can adjust the sails."
Later, they kissed - inside his car, when he dropped her home. Her fingers caressed the slight stubble as his eyes beamed his happiness at her. The kiss was for the first time, but not the last, but for them each time was a rediscovery.
On a Saturday, she stood in his bedroom, taking in the situation and contemplating the man whose soul was bared before her, and she couldn't help but think that perhaps everything would be okay.
Birds sang in the park. The world blinked sleepily, awaking for the first time once again.
The gulmohar trees budded, promise and beauty in red and yellow.
In spring, she said YES.
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The End
Bigg Boss 19
