Truly Madly Deeply (28 page)

As he opened his mouth, to begin his delusionary speech, his eyes registered her getting up silently and heading towards the exit. His eyes followed her until she disappeared out of sight and he looked down to survey himself.

“Thanks!” was all he said, before placing the premier trophy on the table and descending the stairs.

When he rushed down to talk to her – his speed no more a casual promenade – he did not find her. Just like he did not find himself in her heart anymore!

***

Towards the end of February, Rahul sensed a vague discomfort pushing his chest. He came across Seema on the last day of the month which also was the most special day of his life. She was on her way back home from her tuitions. Coincidentally, the fated place was bound to be near her colony just in perfect view of her fourth floor mansion, leaving complete scope that if little Swaleeha stared out of the window and saw them, she would shout in exciting enthusiasm; “Simi didi ke saath chokra hai!” and then the rest would be history. But alas, matters of the heart are way over matters of the mind and such was the case with him too.

Rahul wanted to talk to her in peace and hence waited for her to leave her tuitions. He asked her to talk to him when he caught up with her on her way back home from tuitions. She was in a
distinct state of tension due to a verbal lashing from her mother
on account of her two percent drop in the ninth grade first unit test results.

On seeing him, she stiffened and walked quicker.

“Why don't you talk to me, Seema?” he almost shouted in her ears, grabbing her by the shoulder.

Seema froze at his touch and shrugged away, not bothering to reply. She walked on, but an adamant Rahul hopped ahead, again stopping her.

“Don't you remember this day last year?” he quizzed.

“Don't create a scene, go away,” Seema said, looking around to see if anyone was noticing. She failed to see the anger and pain swimming in his eyes, a result of her constant ignorance.

Getting no acceptable response, the angry blood in Rahul's
veins boiled.

“After all I have done for you, is this the way you treat me Seema?” he howled.

Seema frowned.

“What didn't I do for you? And in your name, for your friends too and this is what I get in return?” Rahul said what he had never intended to.

It was not in his character to show-off his deeds. He would only boast about the things he possessed, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Rahul wanted to play all his cards. He continued shouting aloud all the things he had ‘done' for her.

“Why? Why?” Seema shouted back, shutting his voice altogether, not able to take it anymore.

“Did I tell you to do anything for me? Did I ask you to allow Jess' sister to leave school on a half-day just because she was having some health complications? Did I order you to get me an extra-pass for the international science fair when the booking was full? Did I beg you to throw away the quiz competition? Did I tell you to request my participation in those stupid inter-school competitions alongwith my friends? Do I tell you to leave all your work and come to glare at me every evening? Why then, why did you do it?” Seema blazed.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” he blurted.

But this was not what he had intended to say. He surely had it in mind but why did he say it now. Of course she knew it, but not now… not during such times, he thought. He wanted to correct himself but found no suitable sentence that could erase the marks of his love. He had never confessed his love for her this directly, nor had she, even when they were supposedly together and this was the first time he had told her what he felt for her, and the reaction to it was totally unexpected.

Rahul's heart, which was competing with a Ferrari at that moment, came to a standstill after blurting out those three words as if it had abruptly braked when a two year old innocent kid came in front of it having followed a rolling ball.

“Shut up and get lost!” Seema said when nothing could come out of her mouth on hearing what she had longed to hear once near the school gate.

So far it was unsaid between the two of them but that day fate had changed the reaction he would have often dreamed of when he would propose her. He often would see her face light up in her trademark innocent excitement, the soft blush that would envelop her face and the shying away of her gaze and the brief, coy nod that she would throw his way signalling the acceptance of his love. But it had not turned out to be so. Reality was harsh, much bitter than the sweet fantasies he had weaved in his dreams.

He stayed rooted at that spot, watching Seema turn down the alley that led to her building. He hoped that she would at least turn back and check on him, if not gather the shredding pieces in his chest.

“Palat, palat… palat!” he pleaded loudly, hoping she would hear his heart once more. She did not.

Rahul did not remember in the gathering depression what was hammering his insides. The sinking feeling in his chest that was growing heavy every second, made it difficult for him to analyse the proceedings.

How he made his way back home when there was nothing but darkness in front of his eyes, he did not know, nor did he wish to.

***

Towards the end of the academic year came the SSC farewell and Rahul, though in a low state had delivered a prolific speech on behalf of his fellow students. In his drooping yet maintained physical frame, he also bagged the ‘Best look of the Year' award, which was given to a student of the tenth grade, who was at his best appearance that day. Dressed in an impeccable black suit, teamed with a crisp off-white shirt and a silky black tie, combined with wrinkle-free black trousers and the long, Italian leather shoes, he looked nothing short of a Greek-God, straight out of a blockbuster movie. Yet, Seema did not wish him, not for the award, not for his last official day in school. They crossed each other's ways on the fourth floor staircase. She was on her way to the auditorium, while he was on his way home. She was alone, and so was he.

The time was perfect to sew the broken stitches but she would not say anything and no sound escaped his lips either as they eyed each other standing like statues on the staircase before Seema looked away and rushed past him. He stood there transfixed, her face, still fresh in his recent memory and contemplated going after her and saying apologies unsaid and clearing things uncleared. But he could not bring himself to do so and slowed down his pace while descending, hoping that she would rush past him again and he would have another chance to set things right.

That night he did not write in his diary, even though he
wanted to.

***

Rahul sensed the oncoming board exams were almost upon him and he wrote it upon his will that he had to defeat Jay. Come whatever may; he had to obtain the top rank by defeating his rival who was fast gaining popularity but try as he may, somewhere in his heart he sensed it was very difficult. He was lacking something which had been his prime strength all these years, the reason for his success: his confidence!

Seema was everywhere. Not just in his thoughts but in the wallpaper on his desktop, in the momentary breaks he took to watch television, she was there in the ads and soaps and serials, she was even commentating on a cricket match between India and Bangladesh, she was there in the ten rupee note instead of the father of the nation when he handed it over to a shopkeeper. She was there everywhere: in his breath, in his thoughts, in his heart!

Seema never left him and his eyes, instead of being placed on words in the text, were always reading into nothingness, filled to the brim.

During the week of the board exams, Rahul found himself standing in the gallery of his flat, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse of the beauty, whose tuitions were bang opposite his building. He stood there each evening just to catch a fleeting glimpse of her shadow. He would continue to stand there for two hours until she emerged out and in between those two hours, he would be content with feeling her presence near him.

Her sight would bring him momentary respite from his own emotions yet ignite a fire inside him to talk to her, to see her more, to touch her, to tell her how much he loved her. He had her photographs from various school functions which he treasured more than anything else at that time. He had always asked the photographer, their Art sir, to get extra copies of all pictures. He would throw away the rest of the pictures, even though he had paid for them and would keep only the ones he would long to see. For Rahul, there could be no worth on her pictures.

He carried a particular photograph of her with an angelic smile, dressed in a striped yellow t-shirt and blue jeans, standing with a pot-bellied Santa near the Principal's cabin. It was a two-year-old photograph from past Christmas celebrations, a couple of months before Seema came in his life. He looked at that picture, whenever he could. Even the first thing he would do in the morning when he woke up, was to take out the picture from beneath his pillow and stare at it. Before sleeping at night, he would kiss ‘Seema' goodnight and carefully place her beneath her pillow, where she could talk to him in his sleep, which came after twisting and turning on the bed for a long time, thinking about her. He would carry the photograph to the exam hall, where he would stare at it until ‘Seema' wished him good luck and only then, he would begin to write his answers, no matter what time that cost him. He saw her, when he wanted to. The more he saw her, the more he wanted to see her.

***

Finally, Rahul finished his board exams, and he thought he had done a fair enough job with the exception of a couple of papers which he could not complete. The long summer vacations were spent in thoughts of Seema and considering various ways in which he could approach her, now that school was over.

Rahul got a valid reason to see her as Raj had taken admission in Seema's tuitions and even though he was a grade junior to Seema, they had the same timings. So, that meant Rahul accompanied Raj on his way to tuitions and went to pick him twenty minutes before he would leave as Rahul had nothing more important to do.

One such day, he was going home after another failed attempt to talk to Seema near her tuitions. While walking down an isolated alley near Seema's place, he crossed Raashid, the same goon who had abused Seema's mother on phone using his name. He had been rusticated from school long back and was craning his neck to stare at Seema's fourth floor apartment. Rahul avoided him and continued on his way home with Raj tagging along and both of them discussing Seema, while taking the longer route home.

Raashid overheard their discussion and decided to drop in. He called out to Rahul, who decided to ignore him and walk ahead. Raashid was burly and tall with a manly moustache that he always seemed to pay the utmost attention to.

“Abey, you beggar's slut!” Raashid shouted. Raj turned to look but Rahul asked him to keep walking.

“Abey, have you put a horse's cock in your ears?” Raashid intercepted him by placing a palm on his chest.

Rahul gently displaced the burly palm with his hand.

Raashid laughed and so did the four boys standing behind him. All tall and muscular, with steel chains that hung around their necks, the open buttons of their shirts displaying their hirsute chest and cheap roadside glasses hung over their heads making them look like the villains of the southern movies.

“Met Seema?” Raashid asked in a mocking tone and the others behind him guffawed loudly.

“That's none of your business,” Rahul blurted.

It was strange. He had always been afraid of Raashid as he had a bad reputation in the area, but when Rahul heard Seema's name, the amount of strength that crept in his voice was incomprehensible.

“Oh, look the nerd has learnt to talk. You are a kid, a bachcha. Stay in your limits. Stop thinking of Seema or else…” Raashid threatened.

Something poked him between his legs, even though he was wearing a thick jeans, he could tell it was a small knife that Raashid held in his hand.

“... or else?” Rahul looked in his eyes and asked.

Raashid pushed him back with a shove from his hand and Rahul fell down on the pavement. Raj tried to interrupt but a slap across the face sent Raj sprawling down the ground. Raashid proceeded to untie the cheap leather belt from his waist. He tied the belt in a swift circular motion across his right wrist and as soon as Rahul got up, he took the first blow of metal across his face. Rahul tasted blood near his lips. He saw Raj get up and run the opposite way. Rahul saw the knife flash open in Raashid's other hand.

“You dare ask me what I'll do to you. You bastard, keep away from Seema… she is mine!” Raashid screamed in his ears and dealt him the second blow with the belt.

“I can suck her or fuck her. That is none of your bloody business,” Raashid shouted as he raised the belt over his head again. The third blow was stopped midway. Raashid's right wrist was embedded in Rahul's palm. Rahul twisted it and saw Raashid scream. The kick that he gave him in the gut sent Raashid five yards back straight into the arms of the other goons. The knife dropped from his hand and disappeared into a mouse hole in the ground.

For a split second, Raashid was too shocked to react but sensing the situation, his anger exploded and he pounced on Rahul, freeing the belt in his hand. Rahul caught the leather in his left hand, pulling Raashid along with the force and crushed his neck, all the while hammering at his head with his crunched fists.