Schoolmates (27 page)

Yet . . . after meeting her again, all I have done is think of her! Riya . . my flightless bird! My Madam Curie! My whole world. Stop it Kabir!

I reminded myself the thousandth time that day to stop myself from thinking of her, but the indubitable fact was that I had never actually stopped thinking of her ever in my life.

It was ten a.m. and I was in Vikram’s Hotel, busy with the setting up of their new club floor. I honestly liked Vikram. He was a smart and sensitive man. Besides I think he really loved her too.

But then who wouldn’t, she was a darling. Vikram had explained over breakfast today, how he had met Riya. Vikram’s father and Riya’s dad happened to be both from army. So one meeting at Vikram’s dad’s place had led to another and the parents thought of it as a suitable match. And so he had started dating Riya, in order to win her heart and had succeeded in doing so . . .

This line made me think again for a long time. Had not Riya always said that her body was technically complete, as her heart was lost . . . lost to me! I had always said that I thought that was a bad deal as I did not believe in sharing. What was mine remained so forever, and that she would never be able to lend it to anyone else. I had locked it in mine and would never part with it hence forth.

And she used to smile and say, that was exactly why she had given it away to me!

So how come she let it out to Vikram? How was it possible, that I suffered our break so very much and she was blemish free . . . lending her heart out to another man, even if it was this nice man called Vikram? Even if her daddy approved of this nice man called Vikram, she was his! Had always been his!

I was far too busy in work to have noticed ticking off the clock. It was only until my group members patted my back and said it was lunch time that I finally put aside my work sheets and rose up to head for the cafeteria. I also wanted to meet Vikram.

The hotel’s cafe offered all three meals to its employees and also to us. There was a good crowd already present by the time I, the late comer (old habits seldom change), reached the cafe. Thankfully I saw Vikram, who had saved a seat for me, as we had decided we liked each other’s company and had much to share.

“Thanks man! I would have been stuck up back there had it not been for you,” I said slipping in the empty chair in front of Vikram. I continued, “Yesterday was fantastic! Too bad Manya missed it. You were great, man! Very pretty house you have there.” I bit into my salad.

“Thanks, yes I had a fabulous time too. We spoke of you long after you left. Riya told me a lot about you. You were the captain of your team! Then you must have had girls drooling all over you. Now that is what I would call a blessed school life. I was never a sports buff. More into literary activities just like Riya. But you . . . you were a heart throb from what I hear. There was a certain Ayesha who always tried getting cosy with you, and you had a fast friend called Dev! Where are these people now?”

I had smiled at his sweet recollection of my glorious past and was also amazed at how gently Riya had narrated my life’s story to Vikram. Clearly she had omitted her part in my story. But I was happy . . . at least she spoke about me when I was gone!

“Yes . . . I was a heart throb. I will not deny that fact and yes there was an Ayesha who madly followed me all around. She is married now with a son, as I last heard of. Dev Verma, my fast friend even now, is in London and is also married. He married his school sweetheart, Surbhi. Did Riya tell you about Dev and Surbhi?” I asked, sipping coffee.

“No. What about them?” Apparently, Riya had not.

“Well, Dev and Surbhi had an amazing love story.” I said, thinking to myself that Dev did what I could not do. He married the girl he so dearly loved. And I ... all I could now do was sip coffee with my love’s fiancee and think of how much she likes coffee too.

“Dev fell for Surbhi the day she spilled her colour palate on his white bush shirt. Oh! It was so dramatic! He did not know what hit him! He was like a love stuck bunny after that, lost in his own world! Everyone saw it ... He was the captain of Team A!” I had laughed at my own recollection of those days.

“Really! Tell me all about it then” Vikram was looking eagerly at me. And so I began the narration of Dev’s love story, the one love story with a happy ending.

Life was great after we both became captains, me and Dev. It meant fewer studies and more girls! I was taken but Dev was relishing this newfound admiration.

“I had no idea there was this ‘so cute’ side of me.” He said, one day, after school was over and we were in the basketball court doing our practices. Riya had left in her second trip, after my failed attempt to regain her affections, third day in a row. I knew she was hurt; I had been too blunt on the phone that day. So I was trying my luck at baskets.

“Yup Dev, you are getting what I call ‘The pup treatment’!” I said dogging my ball from between his legs.

“What’s that? “ Dev asked.

“It’s what the girls say to you, like they have seen a new pup . . . ‘So cute’! You are officially a puppy look alike now.” I finished and we both had a good laugh.

It was in the week that followed that our schools annual fest was to begin. It would include the annual basketball tournament also. We were all preparing our parts; I and Dev were busy with basketball. Riya was busy with her numerous speeches and literary competitions and Tejas was also busy to accept his fate and be a part of the team. Though I knew he had some trick up his sleeve. But mostly, the arts department was bursting with activity as the entire onus of decorations was with them.

The boy’s lockers and the arts room were in same corridor, just facing each other, as both needed the water booth nearby. So it was on a Friday, I recall clearly, when Dev had won the match between team A and team B and was stepping out jubilantly waving his arms, from the boy’s lockers, when he bumped into someone and fell down with her.

As he felt his shirt get damp and heard the laughter from his mates, he got up rather angrily, to rebuke whoever it was, that had bumped into him and wet his white school shirt, he realised it was a canvas of green and orange! Apparently, someone had spilled coloured water all over his shirt.

Dev looked up and went mute! She was looking fearfully at him and repeatedly apologising.

“I am sorry . . . I am so sorry, but my whole attention was towards the palette, I did not see your hand! I am sorry . . . God! Look at what a mess I created!” Had I not stepped in, she would have started crying.

“It’s all right. He was also not looking either. It’s just a shirt. Right Dev?” I helped her to pick up her brushes and palette and then tugged Dev to senses.

“Right . . . Dev?” I had asked again as he was totally lost, staring at her the whole time.

“Well, Its o.k.” I had said when Dev failed to speak. She had beamed and walked away into the arts room and it was then that Dev came to his senses.

“What happened Dev? Why were you speechless in front of her? A moment ago we thought you will kill her and then Boom! You went mute?” Abhinav, his team mate had asked.

“I . . . fell . . .” Was all Dev had said. All the guys had laughed out and walked away, only I remained behind studying Dev and holding his sling bag along with my duffle. He looked confused and agitated, not his usual self.

“Dev, are you all right? You said ‘You fell’. No injuries . . . hmm?” I had asked a little concerned.

“I meant, I have fallen . . . in love with whoever she is!” Dev had said rather shyly, giving a soft smile.

“We will find out, my man . . . welcome to the club!” I had hugged him then.

She was Surbhi, the talented artist studying in twelfth E which was the arts section.

CHAPTER-9

T
he lunch time was over. I was laughing with Vikram about Dev’s proposal to Surbhi in his hilarious art form that he had drawn for her, when his mobile rang. It was Riya’s call.

“Hi, sweetie . . . you just called at the right time. Kabir was telling me your old school tales. Man! You people were a funny bunch of kids. Yeah! He is sitting here right in front of me . . . What? Again? But I fixed it yesterday . . . o.k. ok. I will pick up a new one on my way. See you later love.” He hung up the phone.

I winced at his mention of her as ‘love’, but lowered my eyes to hide it.

“What happened? Something broke?” I asked casually.

“Yeah . . . she is kind of clumsy with her wrist watch. Keeps breaking its latch. No matter how branded it is, she breaks it off!” Vikram said munching the last morsel of food from his plate. “Now she wants a new one, and shopping with her is not easy man! She keeps heading for the books sectionfor heaven’s sake!” Vikram made a pitiful face and I smiled at the recollection. Some things never change . . .

“Well . . . Manya is now modelling for this new brand. Let me buy one for her on your behalf . . . what do you say?” I was not counting on his agreeing immediately, but when he did so with a relief and shook my hand, I felt great. Departing we promised to meet again for a round of squash that evening and discuss about it.

I was happy. I was going to buy something for her after so many years ... I looked at my new watch for time, which my girlfriend had just gifted. It was around eleven. But that’s all I saw . . . time . . . nothing else.

The day was going fine like every other day. I attended calls, went on site for other projects, met with new clients and had calls from my mom and Manya. I felt fresh and alive; there was a bounce in my feet. I wondered at this as I remembered times when I would be so angry at everyone I had come to the point of losing my career. There were times when I was so down, I could not even answer the phone. My parents were most concerned. That was when my dad had pushed me off to New York, to live with my uncle. I got enrolled in Commerce, got a degree in finance, and followed it up with a post-graduation, surprisingly. I was their star player too. Sometimes I would look at the stands where many dames would be eying my sweat drenched toned body . . . And my eyes would search her. Even though I knew she was not there, I would look like a hungry dog everywhere for her. My colleagues knew I was suffering a heart burn and so hardly ever asked, as I had shut them up one too many times. But I was still at pain, hurting badly and missing Riya so much that it was getting impossible to carry on a normal talk with any other girl. There was also a time when people thought that I was perhaps sick ... as I was not seen socializing with women. Good looks with no girl at your side can lead many a false rumours. I cared the least, and so slowly they died down when I went out on a few rudimentary dates.

I had lost all contact with Riya by then. I even tried once in vain to enquire about her from Anjali, but Riya had vanished. Gone off to do what her dear dad always wanted, gone off without me. There were times I thought I would come back, go find her and beg her to take me back. I was so desperate I would have jumped out of a window if she only just asked. I was a fool in love. My life was messed up, my room was messed up, my lockers, books, and even clothes were messed up. I became too casual and did things just for the heck of it never paying much attention to detail.

Later that day I must have looked at a hundred watches and then at that companies for which Manya modelled, and found one that I thought will look good on her wrist. I wrapped it up and went for my squash game. Vikram was there and we sweated it out for an hour and half. Exhausted we sat for a cooler drink and that’s when I gave it to him.

“Thanks man . . . tell Manya I really appreciate it! I hope she likes it.” He said turning around the beautifully packed gift.

“She will, don’t worry . . . I mean, it’s top of the charts, solid latch and pretty. Besides, it’s packed stylishly . . . she will like it,” I said sipping my ice tea.

“Yeah I know . . . she loves packed items even if they are simple. I recall last year, on her birthday, I got her a diamond pendant and her pal Anjali got her chocolates . . . but wrapped so beautifully you would be misled into thinking it was some big expensive thing . . . and Riya did what? She drooled over the wrapping! I couldn’t believe it!” Vikram laughed at his own memory.

I looked sideways at Vikram. He was a nice guy. I liked him, as a person and we were becoming really good friends. He liked everything I liked . . . even the same woman. But the best part was he appreciated her just the same. He laughed with her, never at her. That’s when I felt, she was going in good hands.

But it still pained . . . after all she was going.

Later that night, as I sat punching buttons furiously at my laptop, Vikram kept coming in my mind. I liked him, I knew that, but still there was beginning to lurk in a corner of my heart a rivalry, just like the old school days. Riya was mine back then and any boy even thinking wrong about her was my target, and today I was conscious that she was no longer mine.

Yet . . . every time I saw her she looked the same, she felt the same and so I felt the same. My feeling came gushing back and all I wanted to do was pull her close to me and hold her in my arms tightly, never letting go. I was beginning to accept that I was just pretending to have gotten over her, over us, as every time I even thought of her, a searing pain pierced in my heart as if something was being sucked out ofme. I felt like breaking things whenever it occurred to me that she was just at an arms distance and I could not hold her in the same way I did before, play with her the way I did, whisper our sweet nothings in her ears till she blushed away, follow her around, sneak up behind her blow air in her soft silky hair then pull her into a hug, swing her around and kiss her till she begged me to stop . . . God! How much I yearned for her.

I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, how crazy she still drove me and above all . . . how much I loved her.

Because no matter how much I try to forget or pretend that she was with Vikram now, the truth was I loved her . . . and I wanted her back.