Truly Madly Deeply (34 page)

“What is time for a foolishly ignorant lover? What is space to a broken heart? How can such dimensions satiate the appetite of love? I would live on, though life departs. I would live on
without a soul. In its place will be your memories and howsoever
I may try to ignore them, I know, I won't succeed. I cannot even
ask these memories to let me go then, because they're all I would have of you; from the ocean of hope to the fire of despair that
they gave me, I will treasure them and keep them buried in the layers of my heart where they will remind me of you, each day,
each moment. At some point, I do visualise myself running
away from them as they haunt me day and night, but wherever
I go, they will find me everywhere and on them, I would thrive and on them, I would survive,” Rahul said in a voice unlike his, the words flowing from the inside but finding an obstruction in his throat.

“But don't worry, I'll live on even though I don't think it matters to you, whether I live or die, whether I am happy or sad. You told me that today when you came, and somewhere deep down in my conscience, I always knew that. Whether I am there or not, I just hope Seema that you don't forget me, don't ever keep any grudges against me and don't live with any misconceptions. I just want to say that whatever I did, I did either unknowingly or because of
my immatureness.

“I know you would not want to be with me ever. You would be happy without seeing my damned face. You would be much joyful if you would not hear my cursed voice. You would be more than delighted not having to bear my filthy touch or spend your priceless time with me, though howsoever desperately I want you back. But more than that, I want you to be happy. I didn't want a thing that you never desired and I don't desire a thing that you would never think of. You might have heard this before, but I know my million words won't bring you back… I know because I have tried, nor would my million tears… I know because I have cried.”

Seema sensed the gradually increasing hollow feeling; poke her chest in an accusing manner. She held her bag close to her bosom and looked down. The ground suddenly resembled the waves of the sea.

“Come what may, I can never forget you. Do remember me
Seema; when you pass by the memorabilia in school, when somebody mentions me, when you see people connected to me, when you visit the McDonalds we had visited, when you pass by that bus stop which was my second home, when you see
someone's sketch that even faintly resembles the one you tore mercilessly and just remember me, if your heart does! Seema, that's all I ask from you,” Rahul said, moving backwards and stopped abruptly, stepping forward again. There was a tear taking shape in Seema's hazel eyes.

“Seema, I always want to see you happy and that is why I talked what I talked today. So please don't cry. I'm sorry for getting so desperate and troubling you. I'm sorry for shouting at you today as my frustration finally got hold of my heart. I just ask you to stay happy for me. As your Shahrukh Khan says in Chalte-Chalte, ‘Remember, someone, somewhere in some corner of this somewhat big world, is out there crying if you're unhappy and is happy if you are! And you know who that someone is!' Let this be a parting filmy dialogue as you say. I will be happy remembering you, basking in your memories, imagining the what-if's of my life. Smile for me… one last time… c'mon smile… one last request,” Rahul coaxed and Seema let out a smile, though not so heartily. Her eyes were filled and her mind was not in control of herself, for the first time her inner self was dancing to someone's orders.

Rahul casually wiped the tears away with his white handkerchief. He clicked her image in his mental camera. He savoured her beauty and the smooth tenderness of her skin as it brushed his fingers. He shut his eyes taking her in, seeing her smile. He would treasure that little smile just as he would treasure her memories.

“Seema, I guess it's time. You are getting late for your tuitions and from today; I will fulfil your wish that you have been repeating to me for so long. I promise I won't trouble you from now. You can comfortably roam around everywhere. I won't be there to disturb you again. So, I guess ...this is farewell,” Rahul said slowly.

Seema was quick to look up, but quick to avert Rahul's vehement gaze too.

“I will always pray to God to keep you happy. Perhaps, we will never meet again. A part of me hopes, we don't. Let this last moment be a lesson to all those youngsters like me, out there waiting to fall in love. Let them know it's a tough path out there, and the chances of not finding true love are very high. It's a difficult and unjust life out there, where there are no second chances,” he highlighted the latter part casually.

The look on Seema's face suggested that somewhere she thought
that this was another drama being enacted by Rahul. She was confident he would be at the same spot the next day, trying to come up with such dialogues to appeal to her. Somewhere she hoped what she felt was true. Was her subconscious too used to Rahul's presence even when she was ignoring him like the dirt of her sandals? She guessed it was.

“Bye Seema. Take care and yes, if it matters I will miss you because I love missing you and that's because I LOVE YOU!” Rahul turned, walking down the alley, leaving his parting words echoing in the mind of his listener.

He wanted to, but he did not look behind. His eyes were filled with an ocean of tears, blurring his vision, clearing the dirt of his senses. He tried holding them, sniffing them in, shutting his eyes but he overestimated himself there too, as they failed to meet his expectations. Knowing they wanted to flow for one last time, he ignored the demands of his eyes which begged him to feed them, her graceful vision. The tears hit him with the force of a violent storm. He laid a blanket over his dreams, hoping against hope
never to uncover the treacherous fragments of his life. Not watching the path where his legs took him, he walked on because he knew he had to walk ahead, leaving his past behind. And at that moment, as his quivering hand slipped in his pocket to hold onto his handkerchief, something fell out of it, something that caught Seema's infallible attention, something that he had forgotten to give her – his parting gift!

***

LOVE BREAKS THROUGH LOCKS AND PICKS THEM ALL ATLAST!

Rahul washed his face in the small trickle that flowed from the basin adjoining the kitchen. The reeking smell of the hospital was still emanating from his body as he had not taken a bath since the past two days due to a problem with the hostel's water supply. He set out of his room to take a morning stroll, deciding to walk a quarter of the length of Algon Avenue and back. The roads were deserted and the constant bustle of cars was missing. He decided he needed to loosen up a bit having stayed in bed for most of the time.

By the time he left the hostel, the sun was up. A small freckled boy with a stack of newspapers bundled behind, cycled past him, greeting him a good morning, to which he nodded back. The familiar sight of singular penthouses, almost identical on either side of the road, popped up as he walked towards the left. The delicious aroma of morning coffee from one of the homes reached his cold nostrils and he paused to relish it. He decided to seek out a cup of coffee on his way. He saw some kids dressed in a black and white tee and matching shorts staring at him as they went past him in the opposite direction. He thought he had seen them in school.

They were having the big baseball game, a part of the school's annual rituals. Rahul did not feel like attending as he had never taken any interest in that game. His only understanding of the game was of the big six, the batsmen hit out of the playground screaming ‘Homerun', and then the bowler coming up with a speedy reply, making the batsmen miss three balls on the trot and yet calling it a ‘Strike'. The weird shaped bat resembled the one his Indian maidservant used to wash their clothes with, pounding them with force in the frothy washroom when the washing machine was not so common in Indian households.

Sahil had urged him to come and watch the game if he felt all right but Rahul had asked him to go ahead and have fun. Sahil had been supportive; bringing homemade food for Rahul, reminding him to take medicines and even sitting with him when his uncle visited him. That time, Rahul was trying to act fine seeing family before him after a long time. He had somehow felt strange doing that, so the effort to make his uncle feel welcome was not upto the mark. He had nodded and tried to speak for most of the time, trying to keep his portly uncle engaged in conversation. Sahil had been pleased to see this side of Rahul, who was happy that he had stayed back with him when his uncle had visited.

“I just want to say thanks... for everything,” Rahul had said, trying to make eye contact.

Sahil had appeared to be shocked.

“Are you talking to me?” he had said, disbelievingly.

Rahul had smiled and nodded.

“What did you just say?” Sahil had straightened up, looking at him with awe.

“Thanks for everything,” Rahul had repeated, holding his eyes for a moment.

“Gee… you're welcome, man,” Sahil had almost blushed.

Strangely, Rahul had felt happy then, smiling at his friend's reaction. Maybe indeed, he had lost his identity, lost his purpose. There was still a lot to explore in this world, there was still a lot to discover, a lot of relationships to be made and one such relationship was between him and Sahil, and he treasured that wordlessly.

Rahul decided he would have coffee near the intersection of Castor and Algon Avenue. He pulled his jacket tightly onto his shoulders and increased his speed, a lot more than his usual amble. He was suddenly aware of someone running towards him from quite some distance behind. The sound of the footsteps was loud enough in the narrow and empty street as it was devoid of any snow. Rahul did not turn back, having heard about the increasing attacks on solitary travellers in the area, he did not feel scared. Except for the ten dollars in his jacket, he carried nothing of value. He walked on, maintaining the same pace.

“Hey Rahul, Rahul… stop!” he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

He turned back, standing at the same spot to see Grazil slow down, taking in gulps of air. She had put on a long denim coat over her pink top and faded blue jeans, looking as fresh and delicate as the flowers she was carrying in her hand.

“Hi,” she greeted him with a hug.

“Hi,” he answered, neither accepting nor reciprocating.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.

“Just taking a morning stroll,” he replied.

“That's good for your health. Do you always do that?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded.

Tilting her head to look at him, she smiled amicably.

“How come you are here?” Rahul asked.

“Well, I am also kind of jogging,” she said.

“With those sandals on?” he asked pointing towards the golden sandals that she wore in her feet.

“Ah!” she laughed, “Forgot the shoes, you know.”

Rahul managed a little smile. He took a couple of steps forward to signal his departure, “Well then, I will catch you later …”

“Hey, what's the hurry? If it's ok with you, they make excellent coffee down that lane. We can jog down together, helps keeping a lil' bit of company sometimes,” she said smilingly, pointing to the lane towards their right.

Rahul thought for a moment. He was going to have a cup of coffee anyway. He decided to accept the invitation for a change.

“Hmm… ok,” he said.

“That's great,” she said excitedly and hugged his indifferent
body again.

They walked down the lane between cars lined in front of huge row houses. The weather was cold and the hot coffee seemed the ideal drink to treat oneself to.

“These are for you,” she said handing him the flowers and avoiding his eyes. They were beautiful purple lilacs, he now noticed.

“Thank you!” he accepted after a moment of hesitation.

“That's the third one?” she said.

“Huh?”

“You thanked me for the third time in three days, and we have met thrice already!”

“Oh well … I'm not that bad you know,” Rahul said, looking down at his shoes.

“I know. It's not that bad a start,” she whispered, rubbing her
pink cheeks.

She asked him to stop at the end of the lane. They stood on the pavement near a dull white building that housed a little stall on the ground floor, almost so hidden that none would notice it at the first attempt and would only realise that there was a coffee
stall at that spot from the fragrance which seemed to originate from all corners.

“Smells good,” Rahul admitted.

“Tastes good too,” she nodded.

They ordered a couple of mugs; Rahul requested that his coffee should be made a little stronger than the regular. The attendant, a woman of about fifty, who was all the while looking down in the jars, suddenly looked up at him as if he was some strange morning crow and nodded.

Grazil asked him about his interests and he tried to reply in the best possible manner. He realised he had not talked to
any girl so intimately for what seemed like decades but he
let the thought pass lest more familiar thoughts could gain hold
of him.