Schoolmates (21 page)

“I’m serious now.” Kabir made a seriously stupid face.

“Stop irritating me. I need to complete this organic chemistry assignment.” I said looking in my refresher.

“Who gives assignments in January?” Kabir asked eating food from my lunch box as always.

“Tuition centres . . . but, how would you know Mr. Sharma, you are not preparing for . . . let me see . . . ANYTHING!” Anjali replied before I could.

“Oh, so madam Anjali had ears tuned in to my tete-a-tete with my girl. You know, it is time you found a guy for yourself. And by the look of it, I feel that Rahul has always had a thing for you ever since class tenth.” Kabir replied.

“Stop that nonsense Kabir. I’m far too occupied to be involved in such . . . frivolities!” Anjali got up to leave.

“Wait . . .” I said. “I’m coming with you too.”

“Hey, why are you leaving? I just have the recess free Riya.” Kabir realized that something was not right. He held my arm in an attempt to stop me.

“Because Kabir, you’ve stopped listening! I really need to study and with you I can’t do that.” I picked up my things and looked at him. He stood there looking foxed. I left after a brief ‘Bye’.

I realized later that Kabir was getting on my nerves more often than I would like to admit. He did not mind my scolding or reprimanding him. He still followed me everywhere possible. Like that day, when he called me behind the ‘infamous stairs’

“What? Are you bunking class again?” I asked after he pulled me close.

“Is this what I get after waiting six classes for you?” Kabir asked smilingly. It was as if he had not heard me.

“Kabby . . . I was in my biology class! You called me her for no reason?” I asked putting some distance between us. In vain though, he held me tightly in his arms. I knew I could never get out of that strong an embrace.

“I missed you!” he said.

“So you made me miss my class? Not a good deal Kabir.” I said.

“Ok, sorry. You want to go back?” he eased his grip. There was not an ounce of anger in his voice.

“I . . . will have to go Kabir.” I said.

“I know my flightless bird.” He made me feel so cruel for mistreating him when all he ever bestowed on me was love and care.

I knew I was irritated and that it had begun to show. I realized, by just how much when that night, after my parents went out for their night walk, post the dinner, Kabir climbed in my room through my window!

“What are you doing?!” I asked in amazement and terror of getting caught. This was the second time he entered through here.

“I had to see you.” He stood firmly in my room.

“Kabby . . . go before my parents return and roast you forever!” I was shaking with anticipation.

“They will take time; I saw them take the long road. I will leave, but not before I discuss why it is that you are so upset with me these days?” Kabir sat down on my bed.

Imagine . . . seeing him in my room once again! I was quivering.

“Kabir, we will discuss this tomorrow please! I’m scared! I can’t . . . think!” I said pulling him to stand.

He stood up. Then he held my hand and said, “All right then , if this is what you desire. I’ll leave, but please Riya . . . don’t hate me! I can’t breathe thinking that you do. It will kill me to stay away from you. I will do anything and everything for us to be together. No force can make me leave you . . . I love you with my complete madness and heart. And my Madam Curie . . . I miss being with you. I don’t want to come between you and your studies, ever. But . . . tell me, how do I stay away? You are the reason I study at all.” Kabir spoke with so much simplicity in his voice that tears weld up in my eyes.

“Now . . . hell, don’t cry!” he said pulling me close.

I fell into his arms regretting my poor treatment. He held me tightly wiping my tears away.

“I’m sorry Kabby . . .” was all I could say and stood there enclosed in the comfort of his embrace. Any girl would give her entire life to feel what I felt that day.

I think we must have stood there for a while and then I sat him down and looked in his eyes. I knew the walls of the room were drawing in on us and the desire to kiss him was over powering. I looked away and he understood my dilemma.

Never in my entire life had I found the need to fight such a tumultuous battle with my own self. I was so drawn to him that day that it frightened me.

“You better go now.” I said finally.

“Why?” there was a playful mischievous tone in his voice. It was sensuous and warm.

Before I could reply, we heard the front door open!

I looked at him in terror, my heart beats accelerating suddenly as the adrenaline did its job.

Kabir got up swiftly and motioned me to remain silent and calm. As he leaped towards the window, his feet hit the flower vase kept on my bedside table. It crashed making an awfully loud noise in my silent house.

“Go . . . quick!” I prayed that he jumped out before dad arrived; I knew he would come running hearing the sound of the crash.

As soon as the last glimpse of Kabir disappeared, my father and mother entered the room and saw the shards of glass sprawled on the floor.

“I rushed, panicked . . . when you opened the door. Sorry!” I said and bent down to pick up the pieces.

“NO! Don’t touch them!” my father spoke out loudly. “It is your exam time; you may cut your hand accidently. Go . . . I’ll clean it up.” And without waiting for my mom to say anything either, he bent down and began cleaning up the glass.

I felt bad that dad loved me soo very much yet could not understand how deeply connected I was with Kabir. As I lied down to sleep that night, I recalled what all Kabir had said and all that had happened so far in our lives.

I was aware that things were changing. I was more concerned with myself and not with what Kabir felt. He was lost without me. That had begun bothering me now. I never wanted him to be that dependent on me or anyone else too.

He had to grow up and realize that the real world was not in our school. My mom had been correct. I can succeed without assistance but Kabby can’t. Not as long as I was around. My presence won’t let him look anywhere else. My absence would create havoc in his life too.

I loved him far too much to cause him so much damage.

I knew sleep would never ever come to me now, as the decision was almost made.

I had a month.

CHAPTER-37

I
t was February, our final month in school. We would soon pass out and the idea that a huge sea of opportunities awaited us had finally begun taking root. In me, it was a big tree already.

The school had given us preparatory leave. We still came often to clarify doubts and spend the last few days with our beloved teachers. There was an odd feeling in the air.

I met Ramanuj Sir on stairs one cool morning. He was carrying loads of Sanskrit notebooks and I took few from him instantly.

“Bless you child . . . I hope we have more like you in the years to come.” He patted me on my head.

I was speechless today. I had received such blessings for twelve glorious years but these last few days were the most touching.

“Mr. Kabir . . . how come you are here?” Bony sir asked Kabir one day.

“I was looking for you Sir.” Kabir said. Then without hesitation he bent down and touched bony sir’s feet.

“Leaving us? Well . . . God bless you son. You turned out to be a fine young man finally.” Bony sir hugged Kabir and the years of scolding and reprimands washed away.

Next week was our farewell.

“Kabir . . . there is something I want to discuss with you!” I said after the mock tests were finally over. I knew I had done well, despite the fact that I only did sixty five per cent of all my papers which was intentional, to not reveal one’s real preparation.

“I too have something important.” Kabir held my cold hands and warmed them.

“Listen carefully Kabir. We need to both make a life for ourselves. My whole life has been dedicated to studies and my aim is to become a doctor. I think even you have made some plan for yourself by now. I’m sure your relatives in Chicago would help you and sponsor you for further studies, but Kabir . . . one must make it in this world on one’s own grit and hard work. You need to focus now.” I was trying to explain it as easily as I could. Kabir was hearing me, but I knew he was not listening.

“I agree with you Riya. That is why I refused to go to Chicago.” He smiled at me.

I was taken aback. I had not expected him to toss away an opportunity so easily.

“But why Kabir?” I enquired.

“Because I can’t leave you and go . . . I will find something here.” He replied.

“Kabir that was a much better opportunity! I’m not saying you can’t make it in India, but why close that window of chance?” I was realizing that he was so enmeshed in my world that now it was hampering his entire existence.

“I told you. I need to see you Riya. To know you are there. You clear your exams and I too will find admission in some college.”

I went silent. This was worse than I had imagined. I knew I had lost. I went home that day, a very worried person indeed.

“Riya . . . are you ready?” Anjali was in my house. We were to go shop for our farewell sarees.

“Yes.” I said as I climbed down the stairs.

“What is wrong? You have been odd this last week.” Anjali was always quick to pick up my forlorn morose moods.

“Nothing.” I lied. She did not probe much, a quality I honestly loved about her. She was to leave for UK in July, and I was already missing her. So I made it a point to spend quality time with her as much as possible.

We took an auto rickshaw and headed for the biggest mall in town. There were many branded show rooms there and I had planned to see each one on the pretext of buying the correct sari. Anjali was not that eager. All she wanted was a sari, any would have done. She never bothered about her attire, though I had to admit, the lesser she paid attention to it, the more gods decided to sharpen her feminine features. She was slim and agile with a very distinguished look. Last month she got glasses as her distant vision was affected by all the excessive reading she did. She carried even that with so much panache that I sincerely believed the Bausch and Lomb guys would have signed her for their commercials. I knew what I wanted, so we spent lesser time in buying the sarees and more time in other shops buying shoes, candy and bags.

After our shopping was over we had lunch and again she enquired why I looked so lost. I had no answer. How could I tell her that she had been right? That Kabir was wasting away his life in being around me, not being something for him. How should I tell her that my mom was correct all along that I may succeed while he will surely fail in the examination of life! That despite my best efforts all I could teach him was to clear formatives and summative papers!

“Cheer up! It’s our farewell now! Recall how we had all put in soo much effort last year? I’m eager to see what Ayesha wears this time! Remember her deep cut blouse last year . . . how that was the show stopper!” Anjali tried to put some cheer in me.

I smiled despite my blue mood. Ayesha did turn ALL heads last year. It would be a sight to see her this year. I’m sure she had extorted huge chunks of cash from her father to buy the costliest designer sari. It was her belief that unbranded things were worthless and that she must be the belle of EVERY event.

“She would dress like a queen along with Jaya and Manavi.” I said sipping my tea.

“But she won’t be crowned The Queen . . . you will be, our Head girl!” Anjali spoke excitedly. I was touched how easy it was for her to associate my victory with her achievement. She had the purest soul.

“And Rahul will be The King then?” I teased her.

“How should I know? As if I care . . .” she looked away. I knew she liked him, but not in a way I liked Kabir. Maybe in time . . . they may click, but not yet.

I had been having difficulty in sleeping for a few days. Maybe I was stressed. I had not met Kabir after our discussion on the last working day for seniors, in school. I would see him again on the farewell day itself.

I had spent my time studying for medical entrance and filling up its forms. Time flew by. I did not realize it was my eighteenth birthday tomorrow.

At midnight the first call I got was from Anjali, who spoke to me for a while and then transferred her call to Kabir. Any other way would have revealed him to my parents.

“Happy birthday my love . . .” he said.

“Thanks.” I smiled. We spoke briefly and he said he would give me my gift on the farewell day.

“That’s not needed; you know I don’t care for such baubles.” I replied.

“I know my flightless bird. But . . . you too know a few things about me now.” I knew he was a stubborn determined basketball captain who did what he decided once. Besides, I knew Kabby loved giving me gifts. It was I who had refused on numerous occasions the luxurious things he managed to buy for me after saving all his cash. I loved his gestures and deep concern for me. But, I was scared lest my parents saw those things. So Kabby gave me small stuff like books, pens, chocolates and a rose occasionally. I had all the thirty nine he gave, pressed and preserved in my old books.

As I dressed for the party the next day, I was filled with bittersweet memories of my life spent with Kabir. I loved him so much that I would sacrifice everything to see him succeed. I knew his love for me ran deeper.

Dad drove me to the school that evening.

“Take care my dearest, and message me once when you are ready to leave. I’ll come and pick you from right here.” Dad said looking lovingly at me.

“Thanks dad.” I smiled. It had been a while since my father and I had settled our score. Things were better . . . at least for a few more days.

As Riya drifted into sweet sleep thinking about her husband and the long vacation he planned to take after his return from work, she dreamt about her farewell
. . .
the day Kabir finished the jingle, the day which finished everything.

CHAPTER-38

T
he farewell party was a huge affair. It was also a costly affair. The school provided a set amount along with the decorators and caterers. But what would be cooked and how the lay out would be was left to the juniors. There was always a theme decided. This year was “ The Royal grace of Rajasthan.”