32. The Perils Of Paying Too Much Attention
âFor breakfast we have all the arrangements, so donât worry. We have paper plates, plastic spoonsâŚâ Kirti was elaborating when Nishit interrupted her, âPaper plates? But for breakfast I only prefer tin plates.â
She looked at him, exasperation dancing in her eyes. âJoke finished?â He bobbed his head in agreement.
He seemed to be in an extraordinarily pleasant mood. The weather must be the reason. It was just the right blend of clouds and sunshine.
Once alighting from the bus, they had traversed the rest of the journey on foot. It must have been tough for Nishit and his sister but they hadnât complained, sheâd have to give them that. Nishit wasnât even wearing trek shoes.
Had it been Tejas, he would have grumbled the whole journey.
It had drizzled for some of their distance and they had taken shelter under an awning of a closed shop. She had thought, anytime now, Nishitâs dam of patience would break but it seemed he was made of sterner stuff. Or once he was onboard a decision, he did not look back.
She had enjoyed the spell of shower with Biplab breaking out into a song, Baarishon Ke Cham Cham mein teree dar par aaye hai...and when Prasanna had laughed over it, encouraged he had started O Bhole Shankar padharo...chhup ke baithe kahanâŚâ these were the songs their father used to play in the morning hours when he would be picking up passengers. Now, Biplab was using them to woo a girl! Well, all depended on who you were devoted to!
The rains were so appealing with their scent and sound, that she had wanted to slip out, let her face be caressed by it, but had been pulled back by her squad leader. âItâs unseasonal rain. You will catch a cold.â
Old habits die hard. He still thought he was responsible for the whole group.
Or afflicted by some misplaced notion that he was responsible for her too. Even her own brother was busier in impressing girls over looking after an errant sister.
Now they sat together in an open field surrounded by lush trees on one side and fields on other. It was a nice verdant place away from civilization.
âIs that a cuckoo that I hear?â Prasanna asked.
âYes, so sweet no?â Kirti replied.
âAnd the other noise? What is that?â Nishit asked. He was sitting next to Kirti.
âI think vultures. They are screeching.â
âWow, awesome contrasting noises,â Biplab remarked.
âWhatâs this? Itâs very tasty?â Nishit asked, eating the karanjis. Kirti felt very proud, answering it was her Dadiâs specialty. He nodded, taking one more. Then, his phone began to ring incessantly. She heard him talk in a technical jargon before wiping his hand in a napkin and getting away from them. A few feet away from them, she saw him engaged in a deep conversation while pacing back and forth.
âBhai, should switch off his phone and just enjoy.â
âDo you want me to throw his phone away for you?â Biplab offered.
âYou mean if I want your head thrown under the bus? No, thank you.â Prasanna wisecracked.
âLet him be. Itâs good heâs busy with his phone. Otherwise, he would be here fighting with me over some topic.â Kirti opined.
âFight? But my brother never fights or argues. Even if he doesnât like something, he will let the other one finish and only then put his point. He's a reserved kind.Concerned with his own matters.â
I beg to differ, Kirti wanted to say but instead said, âI must have judged him wrong then. Okay, you two enjoy here, I will go and explore the woods a bit.â
âShould we come?â Prasanna asked.
âNo, stay here and talk. And take care of my baby for me.â She finished with a grin which brought a blush on Prasannaâs face. So whipped for my brother! The Bip too, for not once he offered to leave behind his Estella and accompany his Mrs.Joe.
She was ready for her retreat into the woods mission when absent in the book character, Estella's brother blocked her way. Her hands on her elbows, where to? His eyebrows asked, half his attention on the phone, half on her.
âThe cynosure of your eyes should be your sister, not me! Protect her. I can take care of myself.â She spelled out the words loud and clear But the thickheaded guy followed her on her adventure to explore trees and some puny animals, those that cannot attack.
Once he cut the call, he asked, âWhat do you plan to do?â
âNothing. I have a packet of salt in my pocket. It would be such a waste to not get any leech stuck to me. So just going to attract a few.â
âWhy donât you sprinkle some of that salt on your brother? Heâs gluing capacity is making me nauseous.â
âIf that is the leech qualification we are going by, I should sprinkle some on you too.â
A soft and cool breeze blew rustling her shirt.
It was not a very thick wood. She wished it was, then she could have filmed that song on herself. Gazab sa hai din...dekho zaraâŚ
âDo you like guavas?â She asked him.
âUmm yes, I do,â he answered hesitantly, them standing close to a guava tree. âWould you ask me to go and pluck them from the tree?â
âWhy would I ask you when I can do that all on my own? Hold my phone okay?â
âAre you serious, Kirti? You are going to climb the tree?â
âYes, Nishit. If you find it undignified or very beneath your class, you can take yourself and go back the same path you came here.â
âDonât fall for I am not going to catch you.â
âAs if I was banking on you to catch me,â retorted Kirti.
When up on the tree, she was shaking the branch, she saw him look at her very concernedly, with very endearing eyes.
âIt is in your nature, isnât it? To be concerned for one and all, despite their social station.â
âStop talking and give us some results. Have you done this before? You havenât been able to make fall even a single fruit!â
âDidnât you see the finesse with which I climbed the tree and yet you doubt my expertise?â
âI pray and hope you can come down with the same finesse. All your bones intact. It was not long ago that I had taken you to the hospital.â
âShut up!â She said and âPass me that stick,â she said pointing to one that she had prepared from a random treeâs low broken off branch.
Once she had plucked an ample amount of fruits, she jumped down the tree.
âAre you okay? No sprain or anything?â
âOf course I am!â She shooed his concern away, bending to pick up the fruits and fill her pockets.
âThat is bitten by some bird. Donât pick it up,â he cautioned.
She clicked her tongue in response, âYou donât know anything, do you? The guavas bitten by parrots are the sweetest.â
âAnd unhygienic too?â He countered.
âSpoilsport!â
âOh is that frangipani flowers?â Kirti exclaimed, looking at the few flowers spread on the floor. âNishit, please, pick a few for me.â When he shilly-shallied, she ran herself and picked two, a guava falling from her pocket. She picked up the guava, putting it right back into her pocket. The frangipani flowers she gave to Nishit. âKeep them for me. My pockets are full.â
When they reached back to their sitting spot, she saw Prasanna and Biplab quite cozy in each otherâs presence. Prasannaâs open hair was up now, as she listened to Biplab speak, her chin resting on her hand. Biplab meanwhile lay on the mat, his head on his arms.
âChildren, look what the evil sister has got? Sweet guavas!!!â
âYes, children please feel no burden as you bite into its sweetness, for she might have endangered only a few bones or at the most, her life to bring these to you all.â Nishit added.
âSister, we are very much obliged,â Prasanna said biting into the fruit after washing away the dirt.
âYou should have got chaat masala and some black salt, Di. Maza aa jata,â Biplaba added his two cents, earning a whack from his sister. âMy dear brother, A contented mind is a continual feast.â
He took a grave offence at being hit in front of others. âIt doesn't look good. I am no kid!â
âBut youâll be a kid to me forever, Babuâ she said, pulling his cheeks, and irritating him further.
âWhereâs my green chips?â Kirti asked later when she felt she had digested the guavas. âBiplab, whereâs my green chips?!â
âI ate them,â was his flippant answer.
âWhy would you? You knew it was MINE!!!â
âItâs okay. Just a packet of chips.â
âJust a packet of chips? It was my favourite chips! When yesterday I asked you if I should buy one for you, you said no! Then why would you eat mine?â
âChill Di, eat something else.â
âNahi khana something else!â She had been saving it for the last and this glutton came and swiped it off from existence. âYou are a devil spawn! No remorse you have, having spoiled my trip! Look at you laughing there!â
âPrasanna, donât be scared. I am usually nice but there are things I am really passionate about soâŚâ
âAnd why are you laughing!â She turned her ire on Nishit.
âIt seems KIRTI DOESNâT SHARE FOOD!!!â He said, his eyes glinting with amusement.
âChips and not food. Didnât you see me sharing guavas?â
âAh yes, how magnanimous of you.â
âSo, Green Lays, Kirti doesnât share green lays.â
âActually, Kirti, I was the one who ate your chips. I didnât know. Bip asked which one and I chose green.â Prasanna confessed.
Kirti was saved from consoling and relieving the girl from the guilt as her phone rang. It rang a few times but she did not pick up.
âWho is it?â Biplab asked, picking up the phone. âOh, from the coaching,â and then without any preamble told the others, âDi, has got an offer to teach in a Polytechnic coaching class.â As if it was such a big offer.
âThatâs nice,â Prasanna complimented. See, nice. When people have nothing good to say, they say nice.
âWill you be joining?â Nishit asked.
âHavenât decided. My joining depends on a test.â Then to change the topic, she asked Biplab if he had deposited some amount in the bank as Dadi had ordered him to the previous day.
âBank was closed due to the workers on strike.â
âOh, I forgot. They are protesting against the privatization and rightfully so,â she commented.
âYou donât agree with privatization then?â Nishit asked, making her turn to face him.
âI donât. Do you?â
â100 percent.â
âYou know why during the Lehman crisis, when the world economy was falling apart, our country was able to weather that financial crisis? Because of the strong nationalised banking sector. Controlled by state, they had stuck to lending and depositing business,â she reasoned.
âThat was past. The present state is that the banks have been bleeding money. You know how much capital injection and reform has been done in the past few years? Any idea of the stressed assets? Why should the government carry the burden of non performing units?â
âBecause the people working in banks are also the government's responsibility. The students depending on banks for jobs are also the government's responsibility. And privatization cannot be the cure? Does changing ownership will all of sudden bring about revolution?âYes bank, and such other debt ridden private banks had needed the support of PSBs to bail them out. And wasnât the whole point of nationalising banks was to reach the benefits of banking to all the people, poor and rich alike. This is a very simple and easy solution. Privatisation.â
âYou think? It is one of the boldest decisions to be taken. You know how politically fraught it is with the unions going against it. But it is the needed reform of the hour. The government is every year spending taxpayersâ money into keeping them afloat. The same money should be used in alleviation of poverty.â
âBut if privatisation were the key, YES bank would not have to be needed to be bailed out. What about the poor, rural people who trust banks because they are government banks. Would they be able to put the same trust on private banks? Forget trust. Would they be able to afford private banks? Isnât the well being and inclusiveness of every individual the agenda of the government?â
âThen, what do you suggest?â He was looking at her queerly and Kirti felt self conscious. She didnât have very deep knowledge about the issue. Sometimes she read or scrolled through internet posts and thatâs it.
âWhy not focus on governance of the PSBâs? Reduce governmentâs stake to below 50% as recommended by PJ Nayak committee. Let the banks hire top leaders without interference of government. Stop asking debt waivers from the banks, it puts them under stress. OrâŚâ
âOr?â He prompted. It was like there were only two of them.
âOr...convert them into an organisation like LIC, so that there is government ownership as well and the PSBs have the desired autonomy as well.â
âGoodâ
âHuh?â
âI said you have valid points.â
She felt her cheeks warm up. How long since someone had praised her for some knowledge in areas other than selling products or cutting hair. It was nice to be reminded that she wasnât a dropout but had full fledged degrees.
His eyes were still on her, making her nervous. She reached out for a water bottle and sipped from it to cool her nerves. Prasanna and Biplab had sometime in between their debate gone to collect sounds. Prasannaâs vocation and hobby.
When they returned, they looked extremely pleased with each other. Did something happen in the woods? Biplab was glistening with joy. She decided to tease him.
âBiplab, guess who just called me?â
âWho?â He asked, dropping next to her.
âLily!â
âSo? What does it have to do with me?â
âNothing. She was just asking if your brother finally got over me or not?â
âStop being an ass, Di.â
âWell, it is what it is. Prasanna. Thereâs this girl and Biplab couldn't take his eyes off her.â
âShut up, Di!â
âShe must be very pretty?â Prasanna asked, her face impassive.
âVery. She had a brow and lips piercing and she called me up to ask where did I get my tattoo? Biplab likes girls with tattoos.â
âI dislike tattooed girls. And tattooed sisters, I hate them with a vengeance,â Biplab declared.
âPretense of indifference. Itâs okay, you like Lily, just accept it.â Kirti added oil to the fire when she witnessed Prasanna looking at Biplab with accusing eyes.
Their romance was moving at leaps and bounds pace.
âYou donât understand words, do you?â Her brother charged towards her, and caught off guard, she had no place but to hide behind Nishit. Catching hold of his shoulder, she played peek a boo with her brother.
âWant to make stories? Come I shall teach you to fabricate one?â
âNo, no sorry. I was bluffing. Now go away...shooâŚâ She was bunching up Nishitâs shirt, when the man himself turned all of a sudden, putting her off guard; she would have fallen if not for his arms around her.
She knew he was tall. Had always been, but in that moment, entrapped by all of him, she felt his height, his gaze. His beautiful eyes. He had very long eyelashes. Had she noticed before?
âSo, this is the real you?â He asked.
âHmm?â She was in a daze, thatâs why she did not feel him back off. It was only when she felt bereft and cold, a strong breeze brush past her cold skin that she realised he had stepped back.
Looking everywhere but at him, she walked to Prasanna and sat next to her. When out from her enchantment, she noticed how she had hurt the girl.
âIt must be nice to have a tattoo? My mother would never allow me.â
âMy grandmother also didnât. I went and got it without her knowing. I was looking for jobs those days and with the turn of circumstances felt very out of control. So, there is a place on my way to the station, I would keep thinking what if I got a tattoo, how would the world look from a tattooed girlâs eye? Would she become a badass? So, I just went in and got one. I will show you someday. Not today as I am wearing a T-shirt.â
âDid the world look different?â
âWant to know?â
When Prasanna looked at her with bewilderment written all over her face, Kirti pulled out a black ink pen from her bag. âI can make one for you.â
âCan you?â
âJust give me a second. Let me tie my hair.â When Kirti opened her purse to look for her back pin, she found none. âBut I had kept it here. Biplab, have you see my back clip?â
âUmm DiâŚâ He faltered.
âActually, he lent it to me. I can give it back to you,â Prasanna offered sheepishly.
Kirti looked at Biplab who immediately looked away.
From the corner of her eyes she saw Nishitâs shake of shoulders. She couldnât blame him, could she? Her brother was pathetic!
Well, if this was how her brother behaved in love, giving away all her things to his love interest. Then all my plans of retirement and mooching off him once he bags a good placement, Kirti thought, would go in drain. The guy would become a wife slave. And which wife would bear a parasite of a sister in law. My brother under my thumb, I was thinking of ruling the house but seeing the situation, Iâd be thrown out within a week and penniless. Because whatever i would have, heâd give it to his wife.
âOh no, you keep it. I will use something else.â The rubber around the small sweet packet, she tried on her hair but it snapped soon. The straw was not strong enough to hold her hair. If she puts her pen in her hair, how will she tattoo Prasanna. She was still looking for a stick or something when a pen materialized under her nose.
âOh, thank you,â she told Nishit. Bunching up her hair into a bun, and pushing the pen through it, she began outlining a design on the inside of the wrist of Prasanna.
âWhat are you making?â
âA swanâ
âOh...Kirti, do you have a dream?â Prasanna asked as Kirti progressed on her design.
âUh?â
âAn aspiration? Or any wish you would want to check off your bucket list?â
âI have been asked to abstain from dreams.â Kirti replied.
âHuh?â Prasanna was beginning to understand that Kirti was truly very different from her own self.
âArre she is quoting a couplet. Zindagi Ne mere marz ka ek kargar ilaaz bataya. Waqt ko dawa kaha aur khwahishon ko parhez bataya. Itâs her favourite.â Biplab filled in Prasanna. She turned to him. âBiplab, do you have any wish or dream?â
âI want to meet our mother once. Just once,â he said, making Kirti look up from her craft. Inadvertently her eyes went to seek Nishitâs. When she realised his eyes were already on her, she looked away.
âHow long had you been nurturing this thought, Biplab?â She asked without voicing in words.
âLong, very long.â She heard him answer but no words were spoken.
âYour mother?â Prasanna had no idea about their family dynamics.
Kirti had told Nishit, though. Long ago, in one of her weak moments.
âShe left us when Biplab was two and I, eight,â Kirti said nonchalantly.
Then turning to Nishit, she asked, âWhat is your dream?â
He shrugged his shoulders. 'Telling your dreams don't make them come true or so I have heard.'
âI know his dream,â Prasanna said in place of him. âHe wants to work with Adam Krugman. One of the top economists.â
âOh. And what is your dream Prasanna?â
âTo go on more such trips? Watch In the Mood for Love with you? Can you at least, now, come to our house?â
âWhy donât you come to our house? You can meet our grandmother as well,â Biplab jumped into the conversation.
âArenât you moving too fast?â Nishit taunted, making Biplab blush and back off.
ââYes, Prasanna, come to our house. And please also see what kind of movies he watches. See if you can manage that test of friendship, then youâll have my blessings.â
âReally? What does he watch?â
âGundaraj, Aaj Ka Arjun, Suriya, Suriya Ka Badla. English movie also he watches dubbed only.â
The inside knowledge yielded a sweet sounding giggle from the young woman.
âBut you must also have a wish. What is it Kirti? Please tell me.â Prasanna pleaded.
âI really donât have any.â
âI, her brother, will reveal her secret wish. She wants to one day achieve freedom and position enough to be able to wear a zari sari, preferably those FabIndia ones. The back of the blouse extremely low and her hair tied into a bun, so that her tattoo is on show. One day she wants to walk freely like this in a room full of people.â
âBullshit! Stop fabricating things!â
âDid you not tell me this was your wish, last summer break? You did. Now, donât lie.â
âI am never going to share anything with you!'
âBut why do you want to do it one day? Why not any day?â Prasanna asked, cutting in between the brother and sisterâs feud.
âBecause it demands some amount of liberation,â Kirti answered.
âDoes not living your dream liberates you?â Prasanna asked.
âItâs a vicious cycle. Living a dream frees you but to live a dream, you must be truly free, mentally and physically. Someday, I am going to check off the list that is above this dream and then live it.â
âI think I have found a new dream,â Nishit said.
âWhat Bhai? What? Tell us too.â
âI will show you if I am able to live it.â
âYour swan is done, Prasanna. Now, whoâs next. Who wants to get a tattoo? Only at the cost of twenty dollars. Biplab, do want me to make a swan on your hands? A squirrel? A donkey?'
âNo thank you very much. Iâm good.â
âI want one,â Nishit offered his hand, catching Kirti off guard. She couldnât even deny him, in front of the two others.
âWhere and what do you want drawn?â
âAnything and anywhereâ
âOkayâŚâ She took the back of his hand and drew a pair of oval shaped eyes, having large, curvy eyelashes. A straight line nose and a curl of lips with big donkey teeth.
'The ink is permanent?'
'Obviously no'
'What a shame!'
'Done!'
âSo soon? Won't the artist sign her name?â He asked.
She drew the initials of her name. K.S.
Opening her palms, she said, âNow my fees?â
âSure!â he affirmed dropping two eclairs into her opened palm.
XxxX
âWhat does your brother do?â Biplab asked Prasanna. Nishit was again on his phone.
âHeâs CFO at FORSESâ
âCFO? At 28? He's the same age as Di, no?â
âYeah, but he has exceptional credentials.â
âYeah?â
âYes, he did his BA Hons in Economics. Him choosing Economics didnât come as a surprise to us. You should come and see our home. Itâs a repository of Eco and Finance books, research papers and all.â
âMy sister is also a BA(H) in Eco,â Biplab beamed.
Kirti was embarrassed at Biplabâs display of pride in her qualifications. She was nothing like Nishit, if that was what Biplab was aiming at.
âMine was a correspondence course. I barely managed to get first division by Godâs grace and assignmentsâ 61.23%
When she had got no placement through her college, she had for a year, job hunted without any positive results.There were just too many unemployed engineers desperate for any or every kind of work that paid. Why would a company then hire junior engineers when engineers were ready to toil at the same meager amount?
Many of her batch mates had enrolled themselves in engineering programmes, a natural transition. Engineering Diploma holders were laterally admitted to second year. Kirti, however, could not afford tuition fees of such degree colleges.
Sandy aunty had then advised that they enroll in a graduate program. Having a graduation degree would make them eligible for the government jobs. Fees was also low so Kirti had agreed but there had been a catch. To get into an undergraduate course, you needed a 12th pass certificate, which she did not have. Even though diploma degrees were equivalent to 12th, college had refused to acknowledge the degree. She had to first clear 12th from private and only then she had been able to get admission. All that for a correspondence course! Full time program, she could not afford it because she was still looking for jobs. And how fate likes to make fun of her! Out of all the colleges in the city, Nishitâs college had been her IGNOU centre! By the time, BA studies had started, she had become too jaded by the whole process to pay any attention to her course; studying only when terms were around.
âCorrespondence or full time, a degree is a degree, Di!â Biplab said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
âYes,â Prasanna affirmed before continuing, âBut Bhai is an MPhil in Economics. From Cambridge University. He also has a PG Diploma degree in Financial Management. Kirti, that he did through correspondence when he was in Zambia.â
âZambia?â
âHe worked there. You didnât know?â
Kirti shook her head. She hadnât kept tabs on the guy.
âHe worked as an economist in the Ministry of Finance of the Government of Zambia.â
âEconomist in Zambia? How does one become that?â Biplab asked.
âHe was an ODI fellow. Overseas Development Institute places post graduate economists with governments of Africa and the Pacific.â
âThen he worked as a trader in Citi Global markets in Hong Kong, for a year. At the emerging markets credit trading desk. After which he worked as a country economist in IGC.â
âWhat is IGC?â Biplab was again curious.
âInternational Growth Center. Itâs based in London School of Economics. Itâs a LSE and Oxford offshoot. It advises on policies to the developing countries. He worked there for two years.â
âGoodness, that is a lot in such a small span of time. Haina, di?â
âHuh? Yes.â Kirti, who had been very diligently digging mud with a white plastic spoon, answered.
âMom and Dad canât stop singing his praises. He returned to India only a few months ago.â
âThatâs why I didnât come across him all these years. Nowadays heâs everywhere.â Kirti thought.
'Sorry, that took long' The country economist had returned.
'What are you doing?' He asked, plopping next to her.
She felt no inclination to talk.
'Kirti, what are you doing? Digging worms?'
'No, digging my own grave,' she answered.
'Huh?'
'Go, do your work and leave me alone!'
âThe mood swings are back!â She heard him mutter.
âGet up,â she ordered him.
âWhat?â
âGet up from my mat. Iâm going to fold it,â she said, getting up.
âWhy? We are leaving?â He asked, getting up as she had started pulling the sheet from under him.
âWhat happened Di?â Biplab came to her.
âNothing, I am going to find some other place.â Away from economists, sound engineers and lawyers.
âWhy?â Her brother asked.
âOh, there are ants here,â she explained.
âAnts, some of them she invited and some others she dug out herself.â Nishit joked.
âYes, the black ones I have dug out, but that line of those giant red ants, they came on their own. Unlike his saying, I did not dole out any invitations,â she explained to her brother.
âRight, those coconut crumbs and mashed petals were but humble offerings that you lay at the feet of those giant ants. Sorry, I mistook it as you sending out invitations. Mighty wrong on my part to have misunderstood your intention.â
âDonât you have any other call to attend?â She was irritated by his attempt at jocularity.
As if on cue, he did get another call and had to excuse himself.
She glared at Biplab for he had laughed at Nishitâs joke. Then dusting off the cloth sheet, she picked up her essentials and walked off to the other side. Biplab and Prasanna had begun to follow her when she ordered them against it.
âI just want some me time. Meditating and straightening out my thoughts. I will be there. Right in front of your eyes.â They seemed to be perked up too at the prospect of some lonely time together. Oh, the young love and infatuation!
Finding a pest free spot under the shadow of a Kadamba tree, she spread the cloth and sat down leaning against the tree. Taking out a small notepad from her bag, she began breaking down her chapters and allotting them to specific dates. She didnât feel very confident about bagging the job considering her preparation. Perhaps along with Computer, she should brush up a little of Economics too. Obviously, she cannot ever become an Economist. But a clerk in a bank? She can appear in a banking exam. That was why she had taken up Economics in the first place. But banking was also not an easy game. Prelims she could manage, Mains was a tough nut to crack!
Lost in thoughts, she began to sketch two mountains, a wide river flowing between the two. This wide was the gap between them, she thought, her pen expertly shading the river. This mountain was him, she thought and then she drew a small stone. A very small, rough stone. Thatâs me. Or maybe, the ocean is him, am some shallow lake, waiting for the Universe to throw some pebbles of success to cause some stir in my silent, unhappening life. And I am supposed to be grateful for such meaningless blessings. Like Dadi says, thank my stars. My miserly stars.
Dropping the book next to her, she closed her eyes, trying to just be in the moment. Let everything else fade. Fade. He achieved what he did on his own. No point resenting him. Iâve to live my life, however prospectless it was, on my own.
âYou see Iâve made a circle around in salt. To keep leech and the likes away. So cross at your own risk.â She spoke aloud without opening her eyes. So many times their path had started crossing that she could tell him by his perfume now.
âHah! Crossed and safe. Itâs true then that the Universe rewards calculated risk and passion!â He came to sit down next to her.
She still did not open her eyes.
âThis is a Kadamba tree, right? Reminds me of the poem we had in seventh or was it eighth? Yeh Kadamba ka ped agar maa hota yamuna teere...main bhi uss par baith kanhaiya banta dheere dheere.â
âSubhadhra Kumari Chauhan,â she quoted the poet.
âWhat is this? Preparing for the coaching job?' He asked, making her quickly open her eyes and snatch the notepad from him.
'When's the test?' He asked, leaning against the tree, his shoulder touching her and legs stretched out in front of him, the turquoise socks clad feet one above the other.
'Next week. But I am not appearing.' She said just not jinx her chances. The more number of people would know, the lesser the chances of success.
'Hmm. Why?'
'Just like that'
'Don't give such vague answers. I can't respect people who aren't serious about their careers.'
'Then, I'll tell you something that would totally make me fall in your eyes. I don't even take my whole existence very seriously.' As if she was dying for his validation!
âStart taking then! Choti bacchi nahi ho jo har baat ka tedha jawab deti ho! Instead of letting your frustrations and past experiences lead you, why not for once, you stop worrying and expend that energy on healing, believing and creating?â
She did not say anything to that.
âDid you ever apply anywhere which can make use of your BA degree?â
âYes, they kept me as a data entry operator. The wage was low and atmosphere suffocating, it was like I was an office girl at everyoneâs beck and call so I resigned. Anyway, at least they gave me a job. Many companies do not let correspondent students apply. I am a graduate just for namesake. My Economics knowledge is at best passable.â
âBut earlier you were making some good points.â
âThose were not my points. I was only parroting what I had read in papers. I do not have your insight into things.'
âThatâs a pretty good start I would say. With time, youâll have your own opinion about things. You were able to list out the data and committees as well verbatim, thatâs commendable. And what insight are you talking about? Have you seen my papers, my predictions? How much do you know about my stand to talk about my insight?'
'You have been at posts, you have experiences? Makes you much better than me.'
'All occupying the posts doesn't naturally qualify to have insight. Else, there would be no bad policies.'
'What is your point?'
'Just reminding someone that there are just too many others so one should stop comparing.'
She waved him off dismissing his dubious encouragement. She didnât need pity!
âWhy donât youâŚâ He had started. Uh, the same monotonous talk. Now, he will say, youâre wasting away your degrees. I know this person! Should I recommend you to a post? Just like Tejas.
Why did you return to India?â She changed the topic.
âHuh? I shouldnât have returned?â
âNo. I am just asking.â
âBecause I wanted to do something that will directly feed into Indian discourse. And then...everyone was hereâŚâ
Having succeeded in distracting him from her career, she pried no further into his answer.
They both remained silent then, lost in their own thoughts.
âWhat is your opinion on the vast difference between the economic growth of China and India? Your brother and my sister were comparing the growth of the two countries. When both of them were at the same page some four decades ago, how did China outpace India?â
âTwo very different countries with very different outlooks and ways of ruling and party systems, is it wise to compare?â
âWhy not? Whom do we compare with if not our neighbours? Assessments and comparisons from time to time, I believe contributes in development.â
âUmm, China has a headway because it has a communist party system so itâs easier to dictate? Make stringent rulesâŚâ
âNorth Korea has dictatorship as well, Venezuela has too.â
âThey have cheap labour that attracts foreign companies?â
âMany other countries that have cheaper labour. Avg per day wage of Rs 247 that is approx. $3â
âGeographically, it is well endowed?â
âMany others are too.â
âMaybe because whatever wealth India had was drained by the British? After Independence, it has still achieved much keeping in mind that it is a heterogeneously diverse society. Unlike China, we are a secular state and whatever progress weâve made it is keeping intact the secular property of our state. The growth of GDP is important to us, but more than that there are other factors that dictate our concept of growth. To quote the former PM, any reforms taken by a democracy is far more durable than reforms introduced by a non democratic set up.â
âDo you want to know what I feel?â
She looked on curiously.
âSee, if a state like Jharkhand is underdeveloped despite having such resources at its stake, you can excuse it taking into consideration that itâs not been long since it got its statehood. There has been constant political instability as well. But if a country like India after seventy years of Independence hides behind excuses of cheap labour, and British drain of wealth, dictatorship and democracy, it is a pitiable situation.â
âThereâs a theory in psychology, Kirti. Locus of control. For a while, itâs okay to blame the external factors, but in the long run donât you think, it is the internal factors, the choices one makes, that shape the destiny of an individual or a nation. In this case, the policies that our leaders choose to frame for our country. If you want your tomorrow better than today, youâve to make the right choices. Quoting one of the favourite couplets of our former PM, âYe jabr bhi dekha hai tareek ki nazron ne, lamhon ne khata ki thi, sadiyon ne saza payi..Much injustice has been seen in the saga of for history when for a mistake made in a moment, centuries have suffered. If some country is doing better than ours it is because of the right policies they adopted and implemented.â
Kirti listened to him keenly, a very fervent need to brush up on all the topics that would/ could make her intellectually prepared enough to debate with him. The fact that she might have been wasting her talent, began to harp on her. The voice that she had put to sleep long back. It would be nice to be in the company of people like him with whom she could exchange ideas, theories, have stimulating conversations.
The moment she accepted that she was enjoying his company, his phone lit up with a call from Mithila. He denied it. The phone lit up again. This time with an invitation for a video chat. He swiped and answered.
âHiiee,â her voice boomed in. âWhatâs up? Where are you?â
âTrekâ
âAlone?â
âNo Prasanna and thereâs Kirti too.â
âOh wowww. Is she there? Hi Kirti! I hope youâre having a good time.â And then, âCan I speak to you alone? I had something very urgent to discuss.â
Neither had he tried to hide her presence nor Mithali had any problem seeing her boyfriend going on a trek with another woman. Perhaps, she didnât qualify as the other woman in their eyes. Like Sana, Mithila too did not see her as a threat. She remembered an incident at school when Sana had lost an on the spot stage competition; Kirti had gone to console her and said, âItâs okay Sana. I had also fumbled on stage before. No issues.â Sanaâs clipped answer had been, âBut I am not you!â One sentence enough to make her aware that these lot did not see her as equals. That is why Sana was never jealous of her and Tejasâ friendship. In her eyes, she was not a woman Tejas would ever be interested in!
Slowly packing up, she saw Nishit cackle and blush at the jokes and innuendos the girlfriend made. Kirti felt a hot surge of resentment rise in her veins. What was he doing flirting with her? And flirting he was! Was he also thinking along the lines of Navyam. Poor girl, sheâs caught my fancy. Letâs relieve the itch. No father or guardian, heâd have to be answerable to. Yes, that was what he was doing, fattening her up for some indecent proposition but in a more subtle and smoother way. Even a desirable way! Way that made her heart tremble. Making use of his sister as well. Like those gully bhaiyyas whoâd make use of chubby babies in their arms to lure girls to talk to them. Dadi had strictly warned her against such Bhaiyyas.
The more she saw him laughing and chatting with the other girl, the more defined she felt the prickling of her singlehood.
She scrolled her own contacts. Why didnât she have someone special too? She texted Shruti but received no response. She texted Tejas.
âLong time no see? Still upset with me? Letâs meet one of these days.â
The reply didnât come...immediately. It came when the utterly in love with his girlfriend guy came to stand next to her. She wanted to push him away and shout, âGo keep talking to your girlfriend!â
Rather, ignoring him, she looked at her screen, reading Tejasâ message.
âOh, the network is still going strong?â He said.
Despite all his achievements, Nishit was a jealous man! Always jealous of Tejas even to the point of stealing his girlfriend. This is not a man she should be respecting or thinking about. No, she had better standards.
âNice to know that I am the only one you like to ghost.â
âRandom people, itâs easy to not reply to them. But dear friends, I canât ghost on them, can I?â
He did not say anything in response. Just followed her silently as she walked to Prasanna and Biplab.
âItâs time to return? Already?â Her brother asked. Prasanna was upset too. They pouted and argued for which Kirti had no patience. Seems the other brother also had reached his limit for he was grunting and barking responses to his sister. They all walked down the slope in silence, Nishit pushing Prasannaâs wheelchair and Biplab occasionally pulling Prasanna into a conversation. It was a difficult tread for Prasanna and they took rests in between. When they reached the foothill, Nishit who had already called up his driver, proposed a ride together but Kirti vehemently refused.
âDid you two fight?â Prasanna asked her brother, once they were in the car, headed towards home.
âNoâ
âThen why was she like that? As if annoyed or angry with you?â
âJust the perils of paying too much attention.â
In the bus, Kirti remembered, she still wore Nishitâs pen in her hair.
Biplab wondered if he had denied enough his interest in Lily.
Prasanna in the changing room found that she had worn Kirtiâs back pin to home.
Nishit, when he shoved his hands in his pocket, withdrew his hands to reveal two small flowers of frangipani. Wilted but the heady fragrance still alive.
Edited by Ginnosuke_Nohar - 5 years ago
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