Oh Stop It…

It is a quiet and dark evening with no stars visible in the clouded sky, the cream colored swift dzire with an ornery dent spoiling its curvy outlines shoves past the farms on a smooth highway with paucity of traffic…treads of the tires continuously gripping and then pushing the road back at 50 miles an hour, the torque being transferred to them is maximum at the moment with the engine running at 4500rpm on the 4^th gear, loud revving of engine compelled Anand to shift up the gear by refusing to increase the rpm any further…with some swift movements of his limbs Anand appeased the engine, the car accelerated for 3 more seconds to achieve 70 miles an hour which pushed Sourabh further into the seat, he has been sitting in the back seat with his eyes closed all along the way back from the workshop….aware only of the sound and vibration of the engine…feeling the power produced continuously in the 4 cylinders as demanded by Anand…the talks of Anand and other two delegates have only been a useless cant to him which he has been avoiding and concentrating only on the revving paean of the engine sung in praise of the mind behind this amazing invention… a sudden sound of radio which tuned in automatically to the local station as they neared the city made it impossible for him to concentrate on that hardly discernible sound so he banished the thought that has been holding him back from losing his consciousness, the thought that has been sitting silently at a corner of his mind staring at him, waiting to harass him with a simple but dreadful question… ‘why me?’… he diverted his mind to a relatively positive thought and fell asleep.

Sitting under a tree he whispered in her ears… “I love you”.

“I too love you”, she replied and adjusted herself further into his arms…her majenta colored suit contrasted her body color in praise, while she lay in his arms he fiddles with her fingers, feeling her wrist, staring at the clearly visible nerves on her hands…

“what?, is there something wrong in my hands?”, she asked

“It’s nothing…I am just trying to grasp each and every details of your hands…I’ve always wished to do that..”

“hmm… did you notice the extra lines on my hands….they’ve appeared out of working in kitchen & other household activities”.

“That’s what makes them even more beautiful”

“what?...the lines?”

“No, the reason behind the lines…now get up & sit there facing towards me”, he pointed to a patch of green grass just in front of himself.

“Why? No….I’m so comfortable here in your arms”

“But I can’t see your beautiful face this way…” he said and she followed the orders as an obedient child pouting her discomfort away. A splash of fresh air swiped his chest as she moved away creating a cold sensation by carrying away the sweat…his heart fluttered with cold and contracted as he missed the warm touch of her body already, but her beautiful face with exactly three strips of hairs clutched to her right cheek, out of which one ended exactly at the mole on her neck made him forget everything else in the world. An uninvited smile occupied his face, a smile of realization that this world, the trees, the stupid traffic pomping far away, the ugly dog, the water-less taps in the park, the disturbing watchman with a stick that looked a bit too sophisticated for his dress, the birds, the pond with an inadequate amount of water, all looked so beautiful to him. Carrying that smile carefully on his face he put his head on her lap, covered his face with her scarf, held her hand tightly in his left hand and her tiny black clutcher in the right to fall asleep in the most comfortable place on this earth.

The smile followed him to this world which to him has been a purposeless place to be at the most if not a bitter reality, for the past few months. The flashes of passing street lights continuously swiped his wrist placed firmly on the side sill of door and his gaunt face in a rhythmic fashion sporadically.

“Sourabh Sir? Where would you like to have the dinner today?” asked one of the two delegates. “Sir?” he continued sensing a lack of reply.

As he started attaining his conscious, a feeling of revulsion accompanied each and every realization of the reality, the tree vanished into the back seat, the sunny blue sky faded into the clouded starless evening, the touch of her hands in his left palm have actually been those of his own fingers, her lap changed into the lifeless head support of the back seat, but her tiny black clutcher was still in his hands which he has been carrying with him everywhere since that incident happened. The feeling of hatred for being alive alone without her, of hatred for his pointless existence, of the ruthless lack of her in his life and most strongly, the hatred of him being perceptible to all these feelings that confuted his own long stood philosophy that a man depends on no-one else but himself for his own happiness, and the frustration of not being able to follow this philosophy came to him simultaneously in a sudden jolt and thus created a much stronger feeling which took a physical form and exploded as a deep pang in his chest. Repulsed at the acknowledgement that he is awake and deprived of his mental capacity to answer at the moment he preferred looking into the infinite, towards the road that kept on expanding along with the white lines which the swift-dzire has been gulping voraciously all along the way.

“Where are you lost? Sir?” the voice arraigned a part of his mind to answer. That part of his mind harried him into answering but he preferred to stay quiet, unsure of his capacity to voice out a meaningful sentence, as if the only sound he was capable of producing at the moment was of a wordless cry “Nowhere, let’s go to hotel metro, we’ll sit on the terrace today” he collected the strength and replied in a single flow of words to avoid any further interaction for a while.

“Very well Sir”, the delegate continued. “Anand take the shorter route and please increase the volume of radio”.

Tu agar udaas hoga…. To udaas hongi main bhi…..

Nazar aau ya na aau…tere paas hongi main bhi….

Tu jahan jahan chalega…mera saaya saath hoga…mera saaya….mera saaya……

It was not the music; it was the lyrics that writhe his heart apart at the moment. He was engrossed by the song as if it was sung only to him, as if it was she who was singing to him through the device which made him miss her even more strongly. The pain of her absence that has been avoided, ignored, and discarded a million times by his logical self crept again into his heart and forced a tear out of his eyes…

Kabhi mujhko yaad karke… jo bahenge tere aansu….

To wahi pe rok lenge…. Unhe aake mere aansu….

Tu jidhar ka rukh karega….

He hoped she was there on the other side of the device; he must rush there and catch her as soon as he can, but he knew she wasn’t. If only for once he could get another chance, but he knew there wasn’t. May be he should go and wait for her at munshi pulia(the meeting point), she will appear out of an auto, or from behind him as she always does….but he knew that won’t happen either. The pain grew excruciating with each of these realization. The tear, shy to show itself to the world, just able to confide in his eyes held itself safely. Don’t let it drop; he ordered himself. The sign, half clear half blurred by the tear, in the front of their car read Hotel Metro. Just don’t move, he said to himself and in a moment the tear vanished back into his eyes, no evidence left of its presence. He had had a lot of chances to practice this technique lately and have mastered it very well.

Drinks, read one of the menu in italicized letters which opened into an exquisite list of wines, whiskies and beer. Drink yourself to sleep or you won’t get a sleep tonight at all, said a voice in his head. No! You can’t turn yourself into a bibulous jerk, ordered another voice. “No I won’t”, he claimed to that faceless voice and to the delegates and shut the menu close.

Back in his room, lying in his bed he sheepishly closed his eyes, hiding from that dreadful thought. Start counting the lambs, he thought to himself, that would help you sleep. She would have loved to watch all these lambs, I should have purchased her one and then we would..Oh Stop it! He has promised himself not to think about her anymore, there was no point in that. He has somehow cajoled himself into believing that it was ok, that nothing has changed after that incident, that he can go on living normally like he does before he met her. Look at that empty space on the left side, remember how she would always fight for whatever side of the bed I wished for, I will give…Oh stop it! He chided himself for his inability at being ignorant of her. Just think of something else, he collected himself again, think of the engines, the gear box, of your dream to work on the fast cars, of winning the races, of sharing all your experiences with her, of her eyes full of awe and her smiling lips, of her silly questions and the way she burst into laugh at your jokes, I should tell her about the today’s …Oh stop it! He shouted with acrimony, Oh stop it, he shouted again with helplessness in his voice. Oh stop it, he cried to the faceless voice within. For god’s sake stop it and give me a break, he continued crying silently, unable to do anything about it and went to sleep…

Of violins & drums & heartbeats…

“Santri…. are you awake?”, partly awake himself he whispered as he noticed the missing melody of her breaths entering her lungs and then pushed out with some infrequent hiccups as she cleared her throat once in a while…. He has grown habitual of sleeping while listening to this melody over the past few months when their mode of communication promoted to phone from chatting… “Santri…?”, he whispered again…the pronunciation of her name has a special tone attached……its not the same that he uses with his other friends….nor any other generally used tones…..it has a hint of love in it….as if he is desperately trying to include all his care, love desire, passion, obsession, need, want, greed, thirst & a pinch of jealousy in it….. jealous because she can see herself and be with herself all the time while he can’t….which obviously bothers him as an odd reason to feel jealous…… but he would fail every time as the pronunciation of Santri ends before all these feelings could be attached to it. What remains in the tone is a well tried effort which she understands very clearly & that’s why the same effort is reflected in her voice when she says “hmmm?” in return, more than partly asleep herself.

“What happened?.... I can’t hear your breaths”

“Oh…sorry….the mic slipped down to my neck…& I just slipped into a deep sleep….you were saying something?”

“No…I’ve been asleep too…what’s with you today…you seem a bit drowsy”

“I had grilinctus today…that’s why”

“Anyway…I just had as dream…you were there in it”

“Oh….. tell me about it”, she said & her tone clearly stated that the drowsiness has gone away.

“I don’t think so”, he said as he realized that what happened in his dream had crossed atleast some of the limits of their relationship…..he continues thinking…”I can’t tell her what happened….ofcourse I want to kiss her…. But I can’t tell her that ….. not now…. I don’t know how to tell her….. yes I like her…. I adore her….I respect her… but still I want to take her in my arms…. Hug her….kiss her….love her….. may I be damned for that.”

“Oh common…tell me what happened..”, she said…excited and fully awake this time.

“Ohk”, he said as he decided to tell her & continued…. “ I am standing in a grassland… the weather is cloudy….. grass is long and silky and is moving quite easily with the wind… I am drawing a painting of a woman….. its you….wearing a beautiful white dress with long shreds flying either ways….looking so beautiful that I said I wanted to kiss you… but suddenly the painting replied….its not her…..its just her painting…you should go & kiss her in real….”, he finished and waited for her reaction… but the only reaction was a melody of her breaths growing stronger…heavier…..followed by those three words that have always brought about the feeling of butterflies flying in his stomach….the words which he longs to hear again & again… the words for which he would surf the internet for hours searching for sweet nothings to tell her so that she may use them one more time….. the words with her accent hinting that her eyes turned down with shyness simultaneously as she spoke … the three words …”tum bhi naa”, she said and his heart would lighten up with colors…. This was one thing that was able to satiate his thirst of being with her.

“Santri…”, he continued after a long pause…. “do you remember the stuff that I told you about how I felt on eye contact with some of the girls…”, and was interrupted…”yes ofcourse….I remember how your heart-beats would grow stronger on eyes contact with Miss beautiful smile …. & you hear bells ringing in your chest on eye contact with…. What’s her name?”

“the rickshaw girl”

“Oh yeah… whatever & of course I remember how you don’t feel anything on eye contact with me”, she finished…. accusing him of the same….. but the accusation was devoid of all seriousness….infact it was just a teaser…..as they both knew well that their relationship…however young it was…..was unaffected and its intensity unabated by any such stuff…..they both were with each other for their own selves and for no other reason. Neither have deigned to the feelings of the other one.

“well…..there were violins playing on both the sides and the sound of drums was coming from behind me”

“what?”

“when I saw you for the first time…. Santri…. You were there on the elevator…..your eyes searching for me…when our sights met for the first time….I could hear drums playing somewhere behind my chest and violins on either sides…..those were the most memorable 5 seconds of my life….after which I could not manage the intensity of that feeling and immediately looked away…… remember how I would always start looking here and there when you looked into my eyes….?”

“But you said you don’t feel anything”, she said ….earnestly demanding a justification from his side.

“I was afraid”

“Of what?”

“Of exposing my true feelings to you….. of giving you the power to hurt me…..but I’m afraid no more…..this is me…..ripped off of all my protective shields….ripped off of all the fake skins of denying, lying and pretense…… this I present to you as an ode to our relationship”, he said…fully aware of the value of this present….. and of the implications if the receiver wasn’t worth it. But he knew that no one else deserved it more than herself.

“Sourabh..”, she spoke…..relishing each consonant of his name….

“hmm?”, he said in exactly the same tone and with the same feelings that were reflected in her reply a little while ago…

“you are different…..and special….it is only bcoz of you that I started believing that there can be good boys as well…. Thanx for being with me….I cherish each part of our talks..”

“likewise dearest…”, he said and both went silent…. Each listening to the melody of the other one till they met again at Hotel Moon….

Hotel Moon

This route …..is busy….please try again after sometime….

Calling 9335….

This route…..is busy…..please try again after sometime…..

After dialing it for the zillionth time & promising himself to stop trying finally after this attempt, he would once again break the promise….and this would continue till the phone would ring & picked up before the first tring of tring tring showing an equal desperation form the other side as well….

“Hello….”, said a sweet, worried and a little too high pitched voice conveying that she must be having an extra long nose that processes the voice for a bit longer period… “ what happened?....where were you?”, she continued.

“Easy my Lucknow express of 11’o clock”, yes….. That’s what he called her after his friend Vijay once referred to her by that name, lacking any information about this particular girl friend (not gf) of his. He wouldn’t share or talk anything about this girl with Vijay who had every little piece of information about him ranging from the fact that a girl used to beat him when he was in Ist standard to the day of his first night fall, for no particular reason.

“I was trying your number……only to hear the frustrating tone”, the sweet voice replied….

“I am supposed to call you… not you…it makes it even more difficult for the call to connect…..anyways…..its the same problem everyday…..only today it took me two rounds of hostel before the call was connected”, ….. Reliance……although the network was a nightmare for those using Unlimited 16 pack, he would still have to go for it being out of choice.

“So what did you had in dinner…. Raka ji”

“I had the same food…omelet…..why did you choose that name for me…..” he said irritated…..but the irritation would succumb to the fact that he actually liked talking to her.

“I like it……I like to call you by that name…” she said gaily.

“Isn’t that the name of a villain in some movie…….is that why you call me that?”

“Exactly”

“But why…..what did I do to earn that god forsaken name”

“You know what you did…..besides I don’t attach you with any wrong deeds…so don’t bother”

“Oh….I know…..once I stole your heart & never gave it back….although I was generous enough to give you mine in return”, he said after he thought he understood the reason…..and gave it a chance so boldly…..boldly because they are still just friends and that strange invisible wall was still there to abstain them from being too frank with each other. He never had to worry about anything while talking to her…..not even that invisible wall…..in fact that invisible wall has actually been invisible as far as she was concerned. He never had to try to explain his humor to her because she always understood it as naturally as if she was meant to.

“Hmmm….your heart is beating really hard right know Raka ji”, she said ……continuing what was started by him.

“I was wondering what the gf of Raka would be called then....” he said and resumed after a pause…”Sirka”.

“& how’s that”, she asked, confident that it was not just any word that came up in his mind……

“Ok…..Raka’s love would be same as Raka……so she could be called as She-Raka…..or Ciraka…….or Sirka…… that’s how…….vinegar in English ;)” he said & waited for her reaction.

“wow….too good Raka ji….. am glad to be Sirka”, she said……stating what has been a tacit understanding between the two of them for so long…..

“Is it……so you are my girl-friend then…..or better to say…..am I your boy-firend?” he said as if he already knew the answer and waited for her to say yes so that he could then go on to complete something that was more important than this confession…..

“Yes” she said with all the confidence……”Yes” she said not to him but to herself……as if this was the first time she had dared told her inner…..thinking …….& rudely logical part who would never let her accept the truth……truth that she liked this guy with all her heart…… that this was what she has wanted for so long……to give him that position in her life…….”yes” she said to her mind, winning over it not by citing a stronger logic….. but by merely keeping the logic aside for a while…..

“Remember Sirka ji….I once promised you that I will make you remove that pic of your’s on orkut in which you look sad & have tagged it humorously as ‘no boyfirend’…..will you now remove that pic from the album?”……that was not a question……it was an order….an order which a proud major gives after winning a battle asking to report his victory to head-office………..an order which a proud salesman gives asking for a higher target after he has finished his biggest target of that year……

“Why do you want to see me happy?.....why?” she asked ……moved by the fact that he wasn’t as excited by the confession as by the fact that he could make her happy….

“I like it…….I like to see you happy…….”he snapped it in exactly the same gaiety as her’s a little while ago……

“you rememb..”, she said & was interrupted…

“yes I remember that smiley with eyelashes on yahoo messenger that you use at such occasions”

“It’s so easy talking to you……you generally always know what’s on my mind”

“same here dearest….”, he said and both went silent….

“…..dil ne….dil ko pukaara…..” he started singing ….not being actually aware of it that his vocal chords were active and it wasn’t playing just in his mind.

“you sing that song everyday……why…..what’s so special about this song?”, she asked casually.

“Don’t know……whenever I notice this tree out of my room’s window…..drenched in the moon’s light….this is the song that comes to my mind…..that’s it!........hey can you see moon right now?”

“Well…..if I slide down a little & then tilt my head a bit towards left…..yes I can see it…….why?

“Do you see those spots on moon?”

“Yes…..why” she asked….anxious for the answer…

“When I was a child….my mom used to tell me that there’s an old woman with a spinning wheel sitting next to a tree right there on the moon…. & I would desperately search for that old woman….trying to connect the dots to make one out of them……and would finally get tired of it…….and go to sleep in her embrace”

“That’s wonderful….but why did she had to do that?”

“Because I won’t go to sleep easily…..I kept playing with her scarf ;)” he smiled and continued…”I told the same story to my friends while sitting at assi ghat two days back……. But they all started laughing at me……that was when I realized that there actually was no old woman on the moon L…….their moms never told them about any such woman on the moon”

“But there is ……”, she replied.

“hahahah……..”, he smiled….but the smile was not of mockery……nor derogatory in any sense whatsoever……it was a smile of realization that this girl wants to believe what he believed……that she was ready to believe anything if that helped…… in any sense…….to keep him happy…..and so he continued taking advantage of fragility of her mind at the moment……”yes of course she is there…… and if you walk about 7 to 8 miles east of that tree …..you would find a hotel…… my hotel…..and if you allow me …… you can be the only guest of its services……”

“Uh-huh? and what’s so special about this hotel”

“That it was built only for a single purpose….. to wait for you……to wait for the time when you would come to visit and never leave….. would you like to know what it is like from inside?”

“Yeah sure…..”, was all she could say…..

“It has everything in white….all the walls… the roofs…..the floor……… with the furniture, the fencings and the hanging lamps in steel silver color….. The roses in the glass vase seem a bit out of place there… as if the owner never wanted them as he hates plucking flowers, but had to keep them there in a hope that the visitor may like them”

“When can I come” she asked….her voice heavy this time.

“Not right now……I will have to do some cleaning first…….. Its all messed up……. I can come to pick you up tomorrow….what ride would like to have?”

“It’s amazing how you can always make me smile …..Whatever the situation may be ……..well an i10 would do for the time…….”

“Ohk….its done then…….but we can only meet there in our dreams”

“What’s the name of this Hotel?”

“…it’s…… Hotel Moon…”

“Nice name……” she said …being out of words as usual ….. “will have to go to sleep now…… I have to start the day early……..” she continued after a while…..being assured that he will still not let her disconnect the phone for a little while.

“Oh I hate this part…..when I have to say you good bye…… lets not say good bye ever again …….. I don’t like saying that to you…….I like saying hello…… I want more hellos…….”

“So do I dearest …..but I have to wake up early”

“Hmmm I have an idea….lets go to sleep and meet at Hotel Moon…..”

“You said you need to clean it first…. And that you would pick me up tomorrow……”

“It is tomorrow Sirka ji…….. look at your watch….its 12:03 AM”