Diary of a Compulsive Stalker - 2

Read Chapter 1

***

Painters are funny people. I turned out to be one funny chap. Really!!
I received a call the other day for judging an art competition. I laughed hysterically after I hung up on the dean.

"Mr. Zubein, we need artists like you to inspire our students", he said.

I hadn't laughed like this in a long long time. 

"Sure, I'll be there Sir. Please text me all the details", I responded decently.

"I will do that. Also, can I ask you to come for the event inauguration first, and I would be very glad if you could suggest a theme for the painting competition", he demanded more, as I heeded.

"No problem Sir. I shall be there", I had to sound amicable. 

He had bought 17 of my paintings for no good reason. I could go without work for so long only because he gave me money. Of course I don't see it that way. I earned it. But I knew what level of an artist I was. I deserved nothing! None of it - money or respect! But I got it anyway. So I made it a point to enjoy it. Humility pays nothing in this business.

"Sure. I do have something in mind. I'll come and address the students at the inauguration", I assured and continued with my internet browsing.

Social networking has its boons and banes. I looked for Bina's address and found it easily. She stays 4 bus stops away from me. The world is indeed a small place. She keeps checking-in in this one particular Costa Cafe, and I can guess easily that she stays somewhere around that coffee house. 

***

Mom has been a crazy woman ever since she became a mother, I believe.

"Zubi, look at this advertisement. Why don't you attend this interview?", she called out one day.

"Mom, I am not going to turn out like Dad. I don't want to be an accountant, fill ledger books and do the same thing over and over again for 40 years", I reasoned.

"How on earth are you going to have a steady income then?", she questioned.

"Mom, I sold my paintings last month, and with those earnings I can spend lavishly for another 3 months. My paintings go in lakhs. Dr. Diwan paid me 1 and half lakh for 3 paintings alone, last month", I explained.

"This is not a steady income. And which idiot buys paintings of nude girls for 1 and a half lakhs?", she sounded disgusted. 

"That's art Maa. Nude art. I am a graceful painter!", I explained, but failed to. She never understood me or my art. Not even when I tried to tell her about how I felt about certain things.

Nude artists are not appreciated much. I remember the first time I chose to stick with one color only. I used red to paint a woman. Shades of red, on canvas. Painting of a woman I saw in one of the B grade flicks of a South Indian movie. I took a still and painted her. Without clothes. I realized there was something that interested me. The divinity behind the entire creation of women is astonishing. I wanted to appreciate the beauty. I painted her in 3 hours. Straight. Most of the times, the most unassuming women of the lot interest me. This woman was one of them.

"Exquisite", I remember Dev complimenting me.

But I found it senseless. My painting did not impress me. I wanted to feel the rush within for having painted this sensuous woman whom I stared at for 5 hours and painted for 3. But nothing happened. 

Just like Bina. Would painting her mean anything? Would I want to see her naked? Posing for me? I would definitely want that. 

I went to Costa the next evening to find Bina. I wanted to apologize, so that she thinks of me as a good man. I am a good man, mostly, women refuse to agree. Ask Dev, he would vouch for me.

Dev....... Well....!!

"Why did your parents name you Zubein when you are not Muslim", he asked once. That was his very first question when we met. I concluded that this guy wouldn't be easy to deal with. He had already judged me on the basis of my name. 

"My mother was a Muslim, and my father is a Hindu. Now we don't follow any religion", I replied.

"That's weird", he exclaimed.

"What's weird? Religion is complicated. Love is simple. We follow latter", I defended, repeating what mom always said.

"Ok. Makes no sense. But people will think you are Muslim", he said.

"Would that really matter?", I asked.

"I should ask that!", Dev said.

"Well, I don't care. What's in a name after all...", I started quoting Shakespeare.

"....That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet", he concluded.

That's how I knew I could be his friend. He was opinionated. But he was still a guy who could be my friend. 

Bina was not in the cafe, when I entered. It was a weekday. A workday. Why should she be out in a coffee house? She must be at work. Looking pretty, scribbling her name on the newspaper, attending people. I sat there and ordered a coffee for myself.

I looked around. There was a girl who interested me. Unlike a real one, but a girl nonetheless. She kept tapping her foot while one foot rested on the knee of the other. She wore a huge-dialed watch. Her lose sweatshirt, made it difficult for me to categorize her. Her fingers, constantly moving on the phone. No nail paint. Her hair, falling on her face, short, blunt. She wore spectacles, and there was no sign of kohl. But... 

But her fragrance drove me crazy. As I tried to capture her picture on my phone, she looked up and walked towards me, realizing someone was clicking her. I looked at her. Intently. Her waist - brilliant. I was stuck on that.

I heard voices diminishing as she approached....


Dev should never know about this.

***

.....to be contd

Diary of a Compulsive Stalker - 1

"Zubein", I introduced myself as I stopped at the reception. 

"Please wait there Sir, while I let Mr. Tiwari know that you are here", she pointed at the seating area. 

Orange nail paint! White skin. Her fingers were beautiful. I thought, why didn't her face appeal at first? I stopped. Turned back. And looked. Looked at her. Her hair - tinge of brown. Eyes, un-kohled. Drab. Nose. Lips. I stared some more. I wanted her looks to attract me. I tried harder. Neck -sleek. A beautiful diamond pendant adorned the chain she wore. Did I notice her lips? I went up a tad. Stared. Just gloss - neat.... down to neck.... pendant!!  A nice neckline...further down.... Her breasts. I stared. How were they, I examined carefully as layers of clothes took its shape. 

"Excuse me Sir!", she interrupted. I looked up. Her face looked red, forehead tensed. Offended, was she?  Of course. I was staring, wasn't I? But what was it about her? Why wasn't she appealing? I had my questions. I wanted to explore more. So, where was I? Breasts. Yes! I looked down again. Decent, I concluded.. And..

"SIR", she yelled this time. I stood looking at her face, studying the details of her features. 

"Please leave!", she ordered. I continued looking at her. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. I smiled. I knew there would be ruckus after this. I silently picked up my bag, took the newspaper lying on her desk and left. I smiled at the watchman on my way out. 

I looked at the newspaper. "Bina Raj". There were repeated signatures in red ink, over the headlines. It was her name. A chill went down my spine. Her face didn't do that to me, what her name did. Bina Raj. I tried to recollect her face. I had forgotten already. 

While the lift zoomed down, I felt free, gravity playing its part. The whooshing sound of the fan was interrupted by Dev's call. I smiled. He always had the perfect timing. 

"So, when is it going to begin?", he asked, authoritatively. 

"I left already", I said as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.

"What? You had the call letter. They didn't let you in?", he questioned.

"I didn't reach till... you know...the interviewer", I started explaining.

"Why? Last when I called you said you were in the lift going to the office reception", he demanded an explanation.

"The candidate was already selected, so they asked me to leave", I told believably. He bought it.

"Oh no!", he was more disappointed than I was. Or was I?

"Zubein, you have to do something. Aunty keeps calling me up and says that you are not getting proposals for marriage because you don't have a steady income", he began the same old story.

"Blah, blah, blah, Dev", I interrupted. "I will get married when I want to. 30 is not an age where I have to start worrying about spending life and dying alone.", I used my usual guard. 

"Ok Ok.. We can talk about it later. Anyway, so what else? Anything interesting?", he changed the topic.

"Bina Raj", I said.

"Who is Bina Raj?", he asked. 

"Meet me this weekend, I'll introduce you to her", I replied.

"So you are making progress.. eh?. Aunty will be happy! Hope Bina doesn't have a problem with your unstable income", Dev teased. 

"Unstable income? Watch how she falls for me now", I reassured. 

Fall for me? Hahahaha.. No girl would fall for me. I am "Perversion Personified". I don't say it. Once a girl told me that. That's a nice description. I love titles. Specially given by women. Because they don't seem to give me anything else. So titles... so be it!

I hadn't fallen for that receptionist yet. Nothing about her interested me, except her name. Bina. Is it even an interesting name? Perhaps for my painting. I can call one of my paintings Bina. But what was wrong with her? She had the perfect set of fingers. Prettiest nail color, and...

May be I was pulled away before I could analyse her anatomy -below that diamond pendant. So, where do you live, Bina darling? 

www.facebook.com. My nerves ease, as I open her Facebook page and browse her pictures...

Dev should never know about this.

***

....to be contd.

Read Chapter 2

***

PS: 'Fictional Fridays' will feature the serial fiction -"Diary of a Compulsive Stalker" (DOACS), every Friday. This is chapter 1. Stay glued for more.

Chapter 1 : Life as it is

Prologue

***

“Thank you . Thank you very much! “

(Applause)

“I wouldn't have been what I am today had it not been for you people. My inspiration for what I do, is nothing but one among you. You encourage me to speak for you, write on your behalf, give words to your emotions and present something which portrays life as it is, without any exaggeration.”

“Ma’am, I have a question. Why do you write so brutally? You could sugar quote things and put it subtly too!”

“Thanks again, for the suggestion, Mr….. Your name please?”

“Ronit”

“Mr.Ronit, you are right. There are writers, who sugar quote reality and make it sound oh-so-beautiful. But I have my class of readers too. Someday I would like to attempt a fantasy fiction where everything is sugar quoted, false and beautiful. Someday!”

“You mean to say, other Indian authors are not doing a good job, because they write fantasy fiction”

“I never meant that Mr.Ronit. I am just saying, my genre is different and I couldn’t be more thankful for the amazing response that I get for what I write!”

(Applause)

***

The applause is a good motivator, unless it is not just for relaxing your palm muscles. I am not attracted to a huge crowd or to massive response for my work. I am happy that I could just do it. When my work is published, I feel a sense of euphoria not because I know I would have thousands of readers vying for a signed copy, but just because, I could speak to many hearts through this one book. There are times when I am mistaken too. But I really don’t care.

The sun doesn't stop shining in the summer, or doesn't generously appear in monsoons. It just remains true to its nature. So do I. it’s very simple.

I remember someone telling me, “Miss Writer, you got a weird attitude. If you let go off your Ego, you’ll be more endearing”

I took the advice. But I never implemented it, because it wasn't my ego in the first place. My mom told me, it’s always good to be true, than charming. Truth has its own charm!

***

My thought flow was disturbed, as my phone rang. It was Shalini, my mother. She wasn’t present for my book release and I couldn’t have been more annoyed.

“Mom, you’re calling me now?”, I whispered getting away from the dais.

“Well, I just called to ask, which floor were you on, I am lost in this big building!”, she spoke so sweetly that I had an indelible smile on my face. I wanted to hug her for giving me yet another surprise.

Shalini was always so good at this.

She never missed important occasions, but I wasn't expecting her to fly to Mumbai from Singapore for my book release. I would have shared the video anyway.

I looked into the crowd as the crowd settled down, and I watched Shalini switch off her cell phone. She was the best audience one could ever have, the best listener and the perfect soother for the tempest – me. 

She had arrived! Finally!

***

to be contd...

Back to Prologue

Serial Fiction : The Origin

Prologue:

There is something called the life of truth. Unadulterated by the eccentricity of human characteristics and deviations. A life which should be. But isn't  - Neither for me nor for you. That plane of existence is a universe unexplored.

***

A graduation in a certain discipline conditions your mind in such a way that you are devoid of the facts of life. You have to undo a lot of learning and start afresh.

After I received my degree for my masters, my mother, who’d come to attend the convocation, and I went to my favorite café.

She told me a few things that day, which I can never forget. 

She leaned forward on the table, looked into my eyes and said, “Your master’s degree has got you knowledge in how a certain electronic component works. You have no clue how you’d master the art of living with this little knowledge. Always remember, be ready to accept your faults, humbly, always speak the truth – to yourself, and others, there is nothing as a good lie, and always be ready to accept things the way they are.”

“Hmm”, I sipped coffee as I heard her speak. She spoke very less, and when she did, it was worth absorbing. This was very unexpected. She wasn't someone who would tell me how to do things in life or tell me the nuances of it. She had always let me be. But then, she was trying to tell me things. Things, which I would have loved to grasp, because she spoke so little.

“There may be times, when your heart will be broken, but always remember, the other person is not bad - the situation is. Time will make everything right. You will be a better human being after every experience. You will have lessons and you’ll be richer”, she added.

“Hmm”, I agreed as it intrigued me further. She was doing a great job. Where was all this all this while, I wondered!

“You will be blamed, held wrong for a lot of things you didn’t do, but it is not always necessary to prove yourself. As long as you are true to yourself, nothing else matters. Opinions are like armpits they say - Everyone’s got two, and they stink. Never let anyone tell you how you’ve ruined their life, because know one thing, you can never ruin anything. You are made to build, made to produce, on a basis of truth”, she said.

It was deeper than the speech the dean had given.

“Always do what your heart tells you and sometime in life, try and become a mother, before it’s too late”, she ended it with that.

I was 23 and I had no clue why she emphasized on the motherhood aspect. I realized she probably wanted me to have an equally awesome daughter like she did. Motherhood was nowhere on my mind.”

***

to be contd..

Onto Chapter 1: Life as it is

Love, then and now - 3

"Where had you been?", Kailash asked, talking out loud, as he saw Amu approach.

"Nothing. I got something for you.", Amu said.

"What? Show me!", Kailash looked interested.

"Well, medicines. Nothing much!", Amu replied.

"Aah. I thought there was surprise", Kailash said.

"Why did you think there would be one? Is it your birthday?", Amu asked, teasingly.

"No. It's Valentine's day no!", Kailash sighed.

"So?", Amu asked.

"You should give me something!", Kailash demanded.

"And why would that be so?", Amu asked.

"Because I am gonna gift you something too!", Kailash said.

“Is that how you impressed girls in college? With gifts?”, Amu asked.

“Well, Yes.. Isn’t that good!”, Kailash asked.

“I don’t trust you. You couldn’t even talk to the girl you claimed to love, let alone be gifting her something”, Amu teased him.

“Well… umm…err.. .Alright. I was way too shy then. I was afraid of being rejected”, Kailash confessed.

“So.. really nothing happened on Prerna front?”, Amu teased again.

Kailash gave a drab look. “As if you gifted stars to your army man, huh”, Kailash questioned back.

“I didn’t need to,. I have only given token of love to just one person in my entire life. You know it!”, Amu said.

“Amrita, you better stop playing with words now, and tell me, what apart from medicines, do you have for me”, Kailash asked.

Amu simply smiled, even more, as she heard her name.

“I have a gift for you, you inconsiderate female!”, Kailash groaned.

"Really!", Amu's face brightened.

"See this", Kailash extended his iPad and showed a video he had made for Amu.

It played Amu's favorite track. Kailash sang along too.

"Nothing's gonna change my love for you...You ought to know by now how much I love you", Kailash joined in the lead.

Amu simply stared at him and sighed. She said, "Even if I tell you I am still in love with Shekhar?"

"Yes, even if you tell me you have an affair with him, I would say I love you!", Kailash said.

Amu smiled, "I love you too!", as she let Kailash pull her close.

"You've started to look even more beautiful with age", Kailash complimented her, as Amu revisited the video and Kailash played with her hair.

"Yes.. After discussing about the first loves of our lives, you want to tell me that I look beautiful? I know you can't get over Prerna", Amu said.

"Stop being jealous. You are my wife. She's just a memory", Kailash said.

"Yeah. Every Valentine's Day you talk about one of your loves. And all are pleasant memories!", Amu said.

"This time we talked about our first love, next time let’s talk about our last!", Kailash suggested.

"I always talk about you Kailash", Amu said.

"Am I your last love? Are you sure?", Kailash asked.

"I have been sure since we became best friends", Amu smiled.

"Since 20 years, I am your last love, eh?", Kailash sounded surprised, he added, “20 years, and you’ve been in love with me, ONLY?”

Amu hit him, pulled him close, and wrapped a muffler around his neck and said, "Happy Valentine's day!"

"I will sure have to mend my ways", Kailash said.

"Why, have you been naughty lately?", Amu asked, pulling his cheeks.

"No. But I can be if you want me to", Kailash hinted a mischief.

"Better be then!", Amu said, as they embraced each other and celebrated the togetherness, friendship and love.

***

“Oh, by the way, I haven’t had a crush since 20 years either”, he added.

“I know”, she said.

***

Love, then and now - 2

"Nothing is as good as a cup of coffee and an interesting conversation. What do you think, Amu?",he asked.

"So we are already at it, aren't we?", Amu counter questioned.

"Sure, we are. So.. NCC camp. New Delhi. Flashback. Shoot.", Kailash led the conversation.

"Hmm.. Yeah! So it was back in 1988. I was the leader of my troop and we were representing the Maharashtra National Cadet Corps", Amu started, as she sipped her coffee.

"Right madam, I know that. Further!", Kailash interrupted.

"Ok, straight to the point then. We were put up in Safdarjung, where we were led by Amit Sir. He was our trainer and guide and we were supposed to report to him", Amu said.

"So Amit was the guy? Eh?", Kailash sounded impatient and sarcastic.

"No. It was Amit Sir's son - Shekhar", Amu sighed as she talked about him.

"He was almost 6 feet tall. Dark, unlike the men I liked, and he had a dimpled chin", Amu said.

"Ok! And..", Kailash prodded.

"There was an evening when we were invited to Amit Sir's home for lunch. He invited more than 50 people. Shekhar was there too. He was probably preparing for his NDA entrance exams", Amu said.

"How old was he?", Kailash asked.

"He must have been 22 then, I think", Amu replied.
a
"Ohh... Sweet.. Then?", Kailash asked.

"He was amicable and decent. The perfect guy any woman would dream of. Most of the girls were smitten by him. But he chose to speak to me", Amu said "I had braces then, two plaits, and specs. Imagine", she added.

"You know how I looked, don't you?", she asked Kailash

"Hmm.. Ya.. I do remember those photographs that you showed me", Kailash replied.

"But we got along really well. For a week or so, he would come to the camp every evening and we would go to the India Gate and talk", Amu said.

"Just talk?? huh?", Kailash sounded probing. He smiled.

"No, not just talk!", Amu declared.

"Then? Tell me tell me!", Kailash sounded curious.

"He had a military jeep. I still remember my first kiss. Obviously it was with him, and that is the reason why he's my first love!", Amu smiled, relating the incident.

"So how was it?", Kailash sipped his coffee.

"Awesome! I never felt the braces came in between. It was gentle, yet nice. Surreal!", Amu slipped into the memories.

"And then. Did one thing lead to the other?", Kailash asked.

"Well, to tell you, we expressed in a way, which possibly was the supreme medium of expression. I think that's all you need to know", Amu said.

"So y'all had sex then?", Kailash asked, and laughed.

Amu smiled, "All guys are just the same! I was expecting you to get to that"

"Yes we had it", Amu said.

"What?? You did?? And you never told me?", Kailash sounded surprised.

"C'mon Kailash. I did not! I knew he just wanted to do it with me. So I stopped where I had to, because I realised, I was way too smitten by him, and nothing should go further. And if we were to do all that, I would have never been able to get over him", Amu said.

"So back then, you were the same sane, sensible female that I know now", Kailash sighed. "How sad, nothing happened.."

"Sad?? I am happy I left it there. I really was in love with him for a long time. I kept thinking about him, would try and look for his name in the paper, but then, I got busy with my studies and life, as you know, went on", Amu said.

"How do y'all know where you have to stop?", Kailash asked.

"I don't know about the others, but I know about myself. After all, love is not just about having sex. It's about a lot more!", Amu said.

"Really?", Kailash asked.

"Mmhmm.. Well.. It's really difficult to explain it to men, you know!", Amu teased Kailash.

"Yeah... Wish I could talk just once, to Prerna", Kailash thought about her.

"Hmmm.. Grow up now! You couldn't even talk to her. ", Amu said.

"I really don't want to grow up, Amu. It's fun this way.. Isn't it?", Kailash suggested.

"Sure it is. So much fun. I couldn't be more in love", Amu said.

"With?", Kailash asked.

Amu gave him a cold stare as she picked up the coffee mugs. Kailash pulled her towards him, while she freed herself, giving him an elbow push.

"What?? Where are you going? The evening has just begun!", Kailash said.

Amu gazed at him without smiling.

"Mohabbaton mein dikhaave ki dosti na milaa…..", Kailash began.

"Agar gale nahin miltaa to haath bhi na milaa", he ended.

Amu turned back and smiled. "Gimme 10 minutes. I’ll be back", she said, as Kailash booted his iPad and played his favorite media..

...to be contd..

Love, then and now - 1

"Weren't there times, when you used to feel jealous", she asked carrying forward the conversation, as she settled her specs promptly on her nose and looked through the frame.

"I did feel jealous. She would come to me, approach, like a magnet to a metal, and then talk to Vinit. I was like a transparent piece of human being", he explained.

"Lucky Vinit. But why wouldn't she talk to you?", she asked.

"Mm.. Well.. I would actually pretend to be engrossed in my notes. And Vinit would stand just looking at her, so she would approach him and talk to him", he said.

"Well, then why would she talk to you at all?", Amu said, laughing.

"Why not?", Kailash questioned.

"You need to have an eye contact first, to start a conversation. And you say you never looked at her", Amu asked.

"I did, Amu, else how would I be able to tell her how she looked like?", Kailash recollected her face, as he related it to Amu.

"How clearly do you remember her features, Kailash?", she asked further, laughing at his response.

"Very very clearly. She would never get off my mind then. Neither now!", he replied.

"Hmm", she pondered

"Amu, do you remember that Urdu poetry, I used to recite in college", Kailash asked.

"Which one?", she questioned trying to recollect.

"Mohabbat mein kya kare..something something", Kailash said.

"Marna bhi ijaazat lekar...", Amu added.

"Ya ya, right! Ohh that was a good good one!", Kailash said.

"Now you've started it! I won't be at peace until I recollect the entire thing!", Amu said.

"Hmm. I said it so many times on stage in college. Obviously for her.. and now...", Kailash started thinking about it.

"You think about her again, I am sure you'll be able to recollect it clearly", Amu suggested.

"Well Well.. It began something like this, correct me if I am wrong", Kailash said.

"Go ahead", Amu added.

"Mohobbat mein kare kyaa kuch kisi se ho nahi sakta", Kailash said.

"Marna bhi kya...", Kailash struggled.

"I think it's 'Mera Marna bhi toh meri khushi se ho nahi sakta", Amu added.

"Absolutely!! Mohabbat mein kare kya kuch kisi se ho nahi sakta / Mera Marna bhi toh meri khushi se ho nahi sakta", Kailash said it one go..

"Na rona hai tareeqe kaa.. na hasna hai saliqe kaa", Kailash recollected the lines.

"Pareshaani mein koi kaam", Amu added

"Ji se ho nahi sakta", they both said it aloud together.

"There! Perfect!", Kailash laughed, feeling satisfied.

"So you said this on stage for her?", Amu asked.

"Yes. But obviously I did not take her name!", Kailash replied.

"Why? Was her name that provocative?", Amu teased.

"Prerna!", Kailash sighed.

"Well, now I know, what her name did to you!", Amu teased him again.

"So you fantasized her all the time, huh!", Amu asked further.

"Who wouldn't Amu. She was so perfect. In all ways!", Kailash said.

"How do you know she was perfect?", she asked.

"Her eyes were the best pair, I've ever seen. Her svelte figure was as enchanting as.. Shakuntala. Her voice rung a bell in my heart. Her gait was so ecstatic, that I kept staring at her...even as she walked away...from me", Kailash sounded a bit low as he ended her description.

"Hmmm. But as a person? How was she?", Amu asked him.

"I never got to talk to her Amu!", Kailash sounded helpless.

"Then, how do you know she was perfect?", Amu asked again.

"She was. She just was. I know it", Kailash insisted.

"That's the problem with you men. You fall for looks, and then later regret over being in a relationship with a nagging female", Amu made her point.

"You are right! Well, I learnt it later, that it isn't just the exterior beauty that is important, but the beauty of the heart too is very important", Kailash sounded peaceful.

"So she was your first love, huh!", Amu asked.

"Yes, she was. I can never forget her. How can one forget their first love", Kailash expressed.

"Sure!", Amu said, as she slipped into a thought stream.

"Now it's your turn. Tell me about your first love", Kailash asked.

"Hmm.. Well, since that was the deal, let me tell you about him too. My first love..", Amu said.

"So I had been to New Delhi for NCC camp when I was 17", Amu started..

"Before you continue, would you mind me filling our cups with coffee again?", Kailash asked.

Amu smiled, as she took the mugs to get them filled with brewing coffee, fathoming the beautiful evening that had just gotten interesting.

...to be contd.

The Gulmohar Tree and Rafey : Index

Prologue

Chapter 1: Just another Morning

Chapter 2: The Pizza Boy

Chapter 3: Encounter - Long Due

Chapter 4: Lost and Found

Chapter 5: The Gulmohar Tree

Chapter 6: And Rafey Speaks

Chapter 7: To be or not to be

Chapter 8: Nostalgia

Chapter 9: Re-encounter

Chapter 10: The Proposal

Chapter 11: Knowing Each

Chapter 12: Celebrating the Past

Chapter 13: RJ Speaks

Chapter 14: Expressions of Love

Chapter 15: Reunion

Chapter 15: Reunion

Do you regret not expressing enough? Do you feel that you should have opened up more about the way you feel for a loved one? Do you think no matter how much you tell, but it isn't less whenever you express your love? Then what is the best way to let the other person know that you love him/her?

The only way is to live each moment in the present, without sulking about the past and without day-dreaming or worrying about the future.

***

It was almost early morning. The watchmen rushed Rafey and Raji to the hospital. Mansoor reached when one of the watchmen called him up informing about the mishap. Rafey gained his consciousness and found himself in the hospital bed. His head was heavy and it spun. He felt the saline drip through the veins. He took a glance up, slowly scanning the ward. He saw Mansoor lay on the couch. Mansoor's forehead bore worry lines and Rafey wondered what would he have gone through, seeing him lay like this on bed.

Rafey tried to move his limbs to see how much he had been hurt. He could move his hands and legs easily without effort.It ached a little, but he as sure it wasn't serious. He tried to get up, his eyes stuck on Mansoor.

Mansoor sensed the movement and woke up.

"Stay put, son. Rest!", Mansoor said.

"What happened? Where is Raji?", Rafey asked, calmly. He knew nothing would go wrong.

He did not let the dread reflect in his voice.

The last scene that he could remember was Raji lying on the road, motionless.

"Raji just got operated, Rafey. She is in the ICU", Mansoor replied.

"What happened, Chachu?", Rafey asked, getting emotional.

The doctor came in, the moment he heard a conversation going on in Rafey's ward.

"Raji broke her ribs and collar bone. She had to be operated, Rafey", the doctor said, approaching Rafey.

"And how is she doing?", Rafey questioned, still maintaining his calm.

"She is not doing good. I have informed her parents. Their flight is delayed. They will be here by 10 am. Mansoor spoke to them, though", he said.

"No, what exactly do you mean by 'not doing good'? Can I see her?", Rafey asked.

“You are not in a state to move. You have had a concussion yourself. Your blood pressure is low. I'd suggest you rest here. I shall keep you updated", the doctor said.

"Do you understand when I say I want to see her", Rafey yelled. For the first time, Mansoor had seen Rafey agitated.

"You have to stay calm, sir. I will keep you informed, I said", the doctor replied.

Rafey lay in his bed silently feeling utterly helpless. Mansoor sat next to him.

"Chachu. It's not as serious as death and all, right?", he asked Mansoor.

"No beta", Mansoor consoled him, noticing the exact same expressions when Rafey gave, perhaps when he came to terms with Shareeq's death.

"She'll be fine. Just fine!", Mansoor murmured as Rafey closed his eyes.

Mansoor's mind was as blank as it never was. He did not know what to say, or do. He patiently waited for Mr and Mrs Ahuja to arrive.

***

Raji lay on the bed, amidst the life supporting system. Her eyes silently shed tears. Was it the pain of the accident or was she dreaming?

"Raji. You know we can have huge gulmohar tree by the side of our house", Rafey said.

"You think we will get seeds for that tree?", Raji asked candidly, "Else how will we plant it?", she added.

"Hmm.. Yeah, I will ask Javed. He might know", Rafey said.

"But imagine we'll have to live for 150 years until the tree grows and becomes as big as we want it to be", Raji said.

"So let’s live forever! We can then see our grandchildren play on it too", Rafey sounded dreamy.

"Why don't we just construct a house next to an already grown Gulmohar tree, huh?", Raji extended an idea.

"That sounds realistic", Rafey replied.

Raji smiled. She smiled as she lay on the bed fighting for her life.She wasn't dead. She was asleep. Sound asleep. And she was dreaming.

Mansoor who was standing outside the ICU, peeping through the glass portion, noticed Raji smiling. He knew she would make it. He was confident that she won't die.

He did not tell the doctors that he saw her smiling. Instead he approached and asked the doctor, "Sir, are her heart beats normal?"

"Yes. She is breathing normally. But she had a very severe accident. It will take a lot of time for her to even sit and chew food", the doctor said.

"And will she able to talk?", asked Mansoor.

"Not any time sooner. She is alive. She may survive. But how well, I am not sure", the doctor said.

"If I could ask you for a favour, could you please do it?", Mansoor asked.

"Please let Rafey see Raji", Mansoor offered.

"Ok", the doctor agreed reluctantly.

***

Rafey slowly walked into the ICU. He did not react, nor felt anything. He slowly took the seat besides her and observed her breathe. He watched her chest go up and down. He saw the tubes, attached to her nostrils move. Her lips apart. Her eyes closed.

He wondered how much pain she must have felt. He noticed the constant stream of tear flowing through her eyes.

He spoke "Raji. You know! You should wake up now. It's our birthday!"

Slowly, he held her hand, making sure he didn't disturb the tubes that hung to her body.He only wished that all that was happening wasn't real. He wished it were just a dream.

"Good morning Junta. Here's RJ, wishing you a happy friendship's day week ahead", Rafey recollected Raji's voice.

He thought, she would have had to ideally report to work in 2 hours, to run the morning show. But she was lying there, fighting to stand up and live life the way it was meant to be.

"Raji, you should get well soon. You have to resume work. We miss listening to you", Rafey said.

"I miss listening to you on radio, RJ", Rafey sounded low.

"I miss listening to you", he said again.

"I miss you. And I don't want to lose you again!", Rafey let his emotions flow.

He had not known the pain of losing someone. He had lost his parents even before he could understand what loss and gain meant. He really did not feel the pain then, because he wasn't cognizant of the fact of what WAS and what WASN'T.

He recollected the evening that he'd spend with  Raji. He wished he could rewind the time and make sure everything was ok, again.

He looked at her, held her hand tighter.

"Get up Raji. I know you are just asleep. In pain. I wish I could share it", Rafey said, realising that his emotions were flowing incessantly.

He allowed himself to cry.

He sighed, "I love you so much. I wish you could hear and know, that I will never leave you again", Rafey said. "I stay with you forever. I promise. Not just for this one month, but forever", he added.

Raji was still asleep, motionless.

Mr and Mrs Ahuja, came in and heard what Rafey spoke.

"Rafey, she'll be alright. You need to have faith", Mr. Ahuja said.

He looked at them, wondering how strong could they be.

"We just had a talk with the doctor. They say she will get through", Mrs. Ahuja said, holding back her tears, sounding as practical as she could.

He remembered the 'Ahuja Aunty', he knew. She hadn't changed a bit. He stance, her integrity, her conviction was all in place. She was behaving totally against his expectations. He thought any one would cry hopelessly over such a situation, but they were a strong family.

He felt the strength they passed on to him.

Mr. Ahuja, gave him a hug. Rafey cried hopelessly. Mansoor looked at him and held back his tears too.

It was more of a reunion for them.

***

As time passed by, Raji gained consciousness and began responding to the treatment.

Rafey would visit her everyday. He had become a replacement at RJ's office too, and he would play a jockey, recite poems in Urdu and the English songs slot was replaced by Ghazals.

The junta loved him too.

He still worked as a Pizza Delivery boy, after being RJ's replacement. He was a hit! He would update the junta about Raji's recovery. The junta looked forward to the updates too.

One fine day Mr. Ahuja asked Rafey, "You think my daughter likes you too?"

Rafey looked perplexed at the kind of question that Mr. Ahuja threw at him.

"I know you like her. But when we weren't around, did she tell that she liked you too?", Mr. Ahuja asked.

Rafey did not reply. He did not know what he should have said.

"Let me ask her then", Mr.Ahuja chuckled.

"Raji, you think he's a nice guy?", he asked his daughter.

Raji smiled with a lot of efforts.

"You think he is good enough to pull your wheel chair for a  year and then pull the entire life with you?", he laughed at his own joke.

Raji beamed. Rafey stood there in shock wondering at the optimism of a father who had his daughter crippled, motionless, with her ribs and collar bone fractured, talking this way.

"So, Rafey. It all looks good", he said.

“She'll be up and active within a year’s time. You game?", he propsed.

Rafey finally said, "Sir, I'd love to be with her, more than anything else".

Mansoor came in right then and said, "Ahuja Saab, I think they like being children, insane and innocent. They don't wanna grow up. Let them be together"

"Yes. I think so too", Mr Ahuja said, as he kissed his daughter's forehead.

"You have to get better soon, love", he told Raji.

She simply sighed and winked at her father.

***

It all got better with time.

Rafey found a reason to live and someone to love, someone to call his own. And Raji waited until she could speak about her dream of building a house next to a Gulmohar tree, because she realised, that her life was all about The Gulmohar tree and Rafey!

***

The End

***
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