We entertain fantasy in
our lives to end a dull, wretched, unfulfilling life …but, nothing can beat the
out-of-control surges that come with falling in love. Or, should I say
infatuation? I was sixteen…quite young for my days, when the little winged arrow
shooter hit me with his stupid arrows. I thought cupids never made mistakes;
after all they were like Gods in Greek and Roman Mythology. But, this time his
wonderful archery took me to the target and split several arrows with the same
deliberation and made me blind 
I’d always been dismissive
by nature, even suspicious of strangers. But, this time I couldn't handle myself. Gaurav stayed
with us for a few days and turned my innocent heart boutiquey and
blind..
Ah! This humbug valentine
in her teenage was so deliciously stupid.
Mangoes had arrived on the
dining table. Baba dug into his and mumbled something through a mouthful of
pulp. Ma said something, and left the room; a little bell pealed softly as Ma
passed through the door. Breakfasts with Baba on Sundays were always
eventful…but, today the cumbersome silence was difficult to combat.
Ma always said, 'you've
got to learn to separate make-believe from real life.' But, love has eternally
been the enemy of justice! Taming it, wasn’t easy for me too --Ma returned with
a tray of tea cups, narrowing her eyes on my untouched plate, she yelled,’what’s
the matter, Munia?’
I looked up mistily at
her. My parents exchanged an astonished glare. Baba
shrugged.
Ma sat down chewing her
lips, softly asked me, ‘Are you unwell…?’ I kept fiddling with my fingers for
some time and pouted:’ I want strawberry shake’.
Baba looked at me, and
almost pleadingly asked… ‘Hey Munia, what happened? …dreaming strawberries?'
He started
humming,
“Let me take you down,
'cause I'm going to
Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real and
nothing to get hung about.
Strawberry Fields
forever….” ------------Baba was singing suppressing a smirk. ‘Well, no dreamers can succeed without help, Munia.
Pa-int what you-u-are-e drea-ming, sweetheart ..Ta..ra...Ta-ra-ra..! He started
whistling to the tune of Beatles.
I remained silent. The sun
was bobbing in and out through the dusty clouds. Ma, with a heady excitement
hissed, ‘Yes, last night you were crying in your sleep. Ahh, najor
legeche’… Without hearing the details, she started making spitting sounds of
condemnation…. ‘thu..thu.thu.’, and Baba dribbled his laughter till it
ran….
But suddenly he stopped
chewing; raising his eyebrows, he poked me disspiritedly this time, ‘What’s the
matter? Are you happy or nervous or excited or upset..? Or, are you just being a
drama queen?’
I shook my head taking a
deep breath and stuffed a portion into my mouth, and started chewing…Baba looked
at me solemnly for a moment and then his face crumpled into laughter: ‘You’re
really in love, aren’t you? But, who’s the lucky boy?'. He put his hand on my
head and ruffled my hair; rose, quickened his pace and left the room. I slumped
back again, raising my face to the ceiling…. His simplest question was leading
to a hundred possible answers…!
Love was in the
air…
Gaurav was doing his
internship in surgery and had a practical do-it-yourself side to his nature
which meshed neatly with the ambience of our house. Often, I found him helping
ma in the kitchen. Initially, I was irritated about infringing
rights…but, gradually I came across those
silvery star-like eyes, which glimmered with so much life while staring at me.
Oh, he sucked the marrow out of my life…
Gaurav was very good at
hiding his feelings, unlike a ranting bunny like me…. I spent sleepless nights
in my room, ranting and raving at myself harboring romantic thoughts. I was
almost certain, that he was also nurturing the blossoms of our love silently in
his room.....
Next morning I woke up to
find that ma was not home. Baba had left for work. Gaurav was having his morning
tea in the veranda outside. He was deeply engrossed in reading. I coughed and
shuffled my feet to announce my arrival. He folded his book neatly and drew out
a packet of cigarette and after a moment’s hesitation offered it to me.’ Would
you care to smoke one? Mirandians smoke…right? ’
‘No,' I said and looked
away. I was leaning against the wall. I straightened and, without any inhibition
asked him blatantly,’ have you ever been to the Coffee House in Mohan Singh
Place? You get imported jeans there…’ My voice sounded silly to my own ears;
nevertheless, I stood in front of him like a glittering
peacock...
Gaurav was attracting me
like a magnet-- with his charm, his nonchalance, his grace, he was at it so
majestically.Oh, my Romeo was no less than Amitabh
Bacchan!!
So, the next move was to
get him to the Coffee House --- because that WAS the joint for lovey-dovey
couples during our times. I’d seen couples
sharing dosas, vadas from a common plate. Ahh, a kind of intimacy my friends,
Rita and Rajeev shared---a kind of love, they gave to each other…hell, I needed
a partner like that!! …I gasped.
Simple minded Gaurav,
didn't dwell too long to decide. As I was scraping the papery tips of my
fingers, he said, walking determinedly towards his room,' Go and get ready
fast.We're going now---We'll go to 'Bookworm' first and then have South Indian
meals in the Coffee House.'
I was always a creative
and imaginative kid, and the thrill of dressing up for my fictional hero lit up
my soul.
We boarded a DTC bus for
CP; and I deliberately took the last seat. Vasudha and Ajay used to take the
last seats daily in U-spls. Oh, soon I was soaring; stretching my silvery wings
over the new skies…The bus was old, so it rattled, shook and vibrated all the
way through the Delhi roads. A serene smile was plastered on Gaurav’s face. He
looked at me….I was blushing with smugness. It was a long stretch of relief and
excitement….
Gaurav kept chatting with
me for a long time till the wild, irresponsible me was calm enough to sleep...
He was surely baffled and shocked and perhaps slain to feel anything at
all...
A raucous sound startled
me; and I woke up in embarrassment. My hand was resting on Gaurav’s arm, I
pulled it away quickly; noticed that he was staring at it discreetly. I hid both
my hands in my lap to save myself from the awkwardness of the moment. Gaurav
holding his book in hand, looked over the top of my head out of the window. We
were close to CP now.
He cleared his throat,
breaking in: ‘You were telling me about the Coffee House and then you fell
silent…’ and laughed jovially.
The air was uncomfortable.
Suddenly I noticed that his hairy, strong hands were coming to grasp mine. ‘No,
I cried, shrinking back. ‘oh, no---that is not what I want at
all—please.'
The 'flame'
that was glowing within me so lividly all this while 'doused' in
seconds.... He was looking perplexed,
fearful... but, he insisted, stammering.’ I mean---look at that black insect
sitting on your hand, and I was only trying to flick it…’. And his hand shot out
and slapped at the huge bumble bee.
I screamed looking at that
huge evil-looking insect as it fell down, buzzing in alarm. All the passengers
were now staring at us. Gaurav was looking like an angry silent cobra. He was
probably more embarrassed than me.
I sat still, till we
reached the destination.... all dreams vanished into thin air; people were
gaping at us with their mouths open, even the insect’s mouth was wide-open when
I saw it last lying dead on the floor...
Striking a note of relief,
a cuckoo called on the knoll... 