I had to attend to my bladder’s emergency but I couldn’t miss that second of receiving his message. I first went into the toilet and was close to shutting the door and I realized that my mobile was still outside and could ring any minute. I ran to pick my mobile and took it inside. ‘Silly’ I laughed at myself. He still did not reply. It was lunch time and still I was left waiting for his single ‘It’s ok’ message.
I couldn’t wait more. I sent a message which read ‘Sorry wrong message. Did not notice the name properly. It was meant for my friend Asha. Since Asha and Ashruth are adjacent contacts I sent it by mistake. Sorry for bothering you. Good evening.’
Again the wait began from scratch. Immediately, within a minute, my mobile beeped. It was his message. I was all geared up to spend the rest of the day messaging him. I clicked it to open. The few micro-seconds my mobile took to process the input and open the new message seemed to be a burden like never before. The message opened and it was just a ‘K’. I checked and re-checked to ensure that the message had just that but it was just a ‘K’. I got frustrated. Tears edged my eyes and I threw my mobile on the bed. I couldn’t control my frustration and disappointment. I had waited all day just for this ‘K’. I felt low. Tears started flooding my cheeks and phlegm started filling my lungs.
My mobile beeped. I still had little hopes that it would be him but it wasn’t him. This time my ribs almost broke the way I cried and pushed out carbon-di-oxide.
An hour passed. Again my mobile beeped. I had no mood to see who it was. I had denied my mom’s call for lunch. I had told her that my stomach was full and I had eaten fruits. Reluctantly, I picked my mobile and clicked on the new message. I couldn’t breathe further. I couldn’t trust my own eyes. It was from him. It read
‘Hi Meeraj. I love a girl and I am crazy about her. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and will ever see. I don’t know if she loves me. I will wait till she feels the same way about me and expresses it to me. I will wait to hear those words from her.’
I was struck in shock and mouth dropped open. ‘Was that ‘she’ referring to me? Does he love me so much? Is he expecting me to say? Why can’t he tell me? What if it is another girl?’ a truckload of questions popped up within me.
‘Why has he sent the message addressing me as Meeraj? Is he using the same trick to initiate a conversation? Or has he really sent it by mistake?’ I was curious to know.
I started my investigation as I was sure that he liked me too. I logged into Facebook and straight-away jumped to his profile. I looked for Meeraj in his friends list and there was none with that name. ‘Can there be a friend named Meeraj, who is not on Facebook? Impossible!’ I thought. I scrutinized his friends list and activities. I deep dove into his activities from the day he created the account. There were a few girls to whom he had been more than what he has to be to a friend on a public forum. I mentally made a note of those names to enquire about them when we get into a relationship. I looked for his interests, likes and dislikes and tried to judge everything about him through his Facebook events and activities. Accidentally, I ended up in his album. Now, this will make what I did the rest of the day obvious to anyone.
He was not fair but I loved his complexion.
He was not tall but I couldn’t ask for more, I loved him.
He was not well built but his tummy was sexy.
I had fallen for him completely.
I closed my eyes and lived the days with him from my future, silently in the darkness.
The door cracked at the corner and Ash came from nowhere. He walked towards me with that smile I love and sat close to me on my bed. He took my right hand into his and filled the gaps between my fingers with his. I understood why God had sculpted gaps between our fingers only when he did that. I felt complete. He took our networked hands and hit his chest with the back of my palm. He rubbed his chest with my hand. I felt his heartbeat for the first time. I couldn’t move a bit, I lost my senses, I lost track of time, I lost myself to him. Our eyes stayed glued on to each other. He bent and kissed my forehead, his hot breath sweeping my cheeks. His hands still tucked in mine. That long forehead kiss could leave me frozen for hours, days, months, years or even a lifetime. I closed my eyes when shyness darted in and he kissed on my eyelids gently. I couldn’t resist, I knew I was a girl but that meant my hormones worked fine too. I got my hand off his grip and stretched it to hug him. I put my arms around him and hugged him tight. I opened my eyes and he turned into a pillow. ‘What is wrong with me?’ ‘Was it a dream?’ ‘Did I make up stuff? Wasn’t it all real?’ I wondered.
I wanted to tell him it was love but was afraid that it would take away the minimal connections that we shared. I imagined scenes where he says ‘NO’ to my love and wept hard. Today I cried for reasons I couldn’t fathom myself .
Watches and clocks have become useless. My time calculators are his Facebook updates, tweets and the time when he comes online. The rest of the time the world ceases to exist. For those 5 minutes of online time he spares I sit all day in front of the laptop to just see him online. I hide like a lion for my prey, invisible on Gtalk, till his status changes to green. The moment the green ball becomes visible beside his name in the list I change mine to green and update a custom message trying to make him understand that it’s all about him.
All my Facebook shares, statuses and comments were about him and for him to understand that those were about him. Seven statuses everyday when he is online on Facebook. I posted poems, love songs, movies based on love, and what not. The pleasure that runs through my nerves when he likes my statuses can’t be explained with words, Clara. My craziness didn’t stop with that! Whatever he updates, likes or comments on seems to me signals of his love for me. If he likes a status of his friend who talks ill of love I get scared. If he likes a love song I play the song throughout the day and wonder which scene or line would have reminded him of me. If he comments on some status or photo I try to figure out his mood.
Clara, I am so afraid. He has liked three pictures of a pretty female who was his college mate. When he can’t like a single picture of mine why has he even liked so many pictures of the other girls? Will she be his crush? Is he not in love with me? Am I not beautiful to him?
My entire world revolves around him now. I have no clue where it is heading. Life seems so complicated, but to my surprise, I enjoy all the complications that it throws in.
He is coming here tomorrow, Clara. I can’t wait to see him, sit in front of me and say that long awaited ‘Yes’. I have made up my mind to stop all this madness. Yes, I am planning to tell him how he has spoilt my digestive system and hindered my respiratory system. My addiction towards him should be treated and the only treatment could be his love.
Standing in front of the mirror I am trying different ways of opening my heart to him. I started imagining what I would say to him as soon as he comes into my room. I practiced my every move, everything that I will be telling him and even how I would look at him and smile.
‘He is sitting next to me on my bed. He has come into my room saying he needs to do the regular checkup after that supposed suicide attempt. He holds my hand to check my pulse and I start trembling.
All that I inhaled started blowing my lungs like balloon. No wonder, a man like him could make me forget even to exhale. Before my lungs could burst I puffed out the air, all at once.
He asked me what happened. His eyes met mine and stayed there for a few trailing seconds. Before I moved my lips to say that I was in love, he came close to me, very close, and kissed me on my lips. I could feel his love and I just said yes when my lips were out of his.’ My mind repeated the story and I enacted it over and over again.
I curled, twisted and went upside down on the bed but sleep did not even touch the edge of my lashes. My head was so full of him that it resists to shut down. My eyes carved him in the darkness. Sleep swept my eyes. Dreams unfolded.
~
12: Love you, San
Past:
The darkness behind my closed eye lids vanished. It felt like the day had dawned exclusively for the two of us. I couldn’t help dreaming more, forcing myself to stay glued to the bed. I realized that an hour had passed already and I was just a few hours away from meeting him. I rushed to brush and to have a nice shower. The first look of myself in the mirror made me feel so ugly. Even the smallest spots on my face seemed huge today, all of a sudden. My hair which was just the same till yesterday, looked too oily; my face dark; the pimples big; and I felt ugly and sober. I quickly browsed the internet for a few home remedies to get instant fairness; instant bouncy hair; instant pimple removal and instantaneous stupidity.
I mixed all the herbs at home and masked my face. Slowly my concern towards the appearance of my hands and legs intensified. ‘What if he looks at my leg?’ ‘What if he looks at my nails?’ ‘What if he holds my hands?’ These questions helped me give myself a total makeover.
Then came the biggest problem I had to handle for the day- the dress to wear! I picked my clothes one after the other and tried them out. Nothing seemed to satisfy me. ‘If I had shopped yesterday, I could have had something that might look best on me.’ I fumed in regret .I took the longest time I had ever taken to bathe. I creamed my face, penciled my eye brows, lined my eyes and immersed my eye lashes in mascara.
Finally, I dressed up and wondered at the lady who looked at me from the mirror, if she would be liked by Ashruth.
I was half an hour away from meeting him. A thought from nowhere cropped up. ‘I was sick and he was supposed to attend to me as a doctor. If I look so fine, why would he even hold my hands like I had dreamt?’ I wondered in panic.
I rushed to the bathroom and washed off all the make -up I had worn. The improper and incomplete wash left back black stains of mascara around my eyes. I really looked sick. I was worried if he would like me that way, but my aim was to get him to hold me.
There was a knock on my door. I knew it would be dad with Ash. I went back to the bed and wrapped myself with the blanket.
‘Come in.’ I said to the love of my life, not into the room but into my life.
It was him. This was the first positive sign he had given me and it also gave me hope that everything will go according to my dream (day-dream).
Our eyes stayed fixed from the second they met. I realized that dad was with us, inside my room, only when he cleared his throat.
‘My daughter is happy. She is all smiles today.’ Dad said.
I kept smiling for no reason, without even my consciousness. I brought my lips back to control and shrunk the smile.
‘You guys carry on.’ Dad left the room as expected. That was the second positive sign which proved that something as expected might actually happen today.
Ashruth sat close to me collapsing my heart beat. He held his hand in mid-air asking for mine. I placed my hand over his; holding it. He slid his fingers and checked my pulse. It was me who had mistaken for it to be a romantic seek for my hand. I reclined. He asked me to turn around to place his stethoscope to monitor my heart beat. I turned around with the hope that he would hear my heart beat his name. Nothing happened. There was not even a trace of romance left in him for me. I couldn’t wait a moment longer. I turned back to him and said ‘I love you.’
He unplugged the stethoscope from his ears.. Picked out the blood-pressure monitor and wrapped my arm in its cuff. He acted as though he hadn’t heard anything. ‘Ashruth, I am talking to you only. I said I love you.’ The pressure machine’s strap tightened on my arm when I said the last three words making it sound as though they were flavored with anger.
He looked into my eyes. . My pulse rate increased. Pressure would have burst the machine if it was on me when he looked at me like that. A few seconds passed.
He put back all his things into his bag, Stood up and walked away. Before I could realize that he was gone, tears flooded my eyes. I couldn’t take in the disappointment. I couldn’t even swallow. I sat up and stayed still. I wanted the world to end immediately. I wanted a mosquito that was on me to suck out all the blood and cause my death. I just wanted to be in pain, which I was already feeling from within. I looked around for things to hurt myself with. I picked the pen and tried to pin it into my finger tip. Pen wasn’t mightier than the sword, at least, not always, I realized.
My hunt for objects to hurt myself with was abruptly stopped by my dad’s entry into the room. I wiped my face in a fraction of a second and tried to look normal. He asked me to sleep soon and offered to stay with me for company. Anyone’s company was something I had already started to hate. I wanted to be alone, cry alone all night. I refused to remember how he had responded to my proposal. My father closed the windows, turned on the air conditioner and went out shutting the door.
I started weeping instantly and never stopped. My phone rang. It was Santhosh. I was scared to pick his call. He knew me well enough to know what I was going through just by the way I breathed. Even a small change in my tone could alarm him to know my state of mind. I picked up the call making my mind to hide it all from him.
‘Hello?’
‘Meera?!’ he already sounded a little startled.
‘Tell me darling.’ I tried my best.
‘What’s wrong Meeru?’ he asked, his voice brimming in concern.
‘Nothing. Why? What happened?’ I said trying to hide the melancholy in my voice.
‘Did you cry?’ he sounded as though he was sure that I had cried.
‘No.’ I said hurriedly.
‘You can’t lie to me dear. Tell me what happened.’ He commanded.
Already I was controlling my tears within my eyes like a balloon pumped with water and San asking me such questions pricked the balloon; it blasted. I kept crying, not a single word escaped my mouth.
‘Meeru, please stop crying. I can’t bear to hear you cry like this! Please, for my sake, stop crying.’ He begged.
I wiped my face but more tears paved patterns on my cheek.
‘Listen, I will be there in half an hour. Don’t decide anything wrong. Please. Promise me now.’ He demanded.
‘Promise. I will never think of that again San. Trust me please.’ I begged him as I closed the tear tap.
‘Good girl. Be good darling. I am on my way to meet you. Whatever it is, let’s sit and talk. Ok?’
‘Sure. Bye.’ I know how San would feel when he sees me or even hears me crying. He has never left me alone, ever since I knew who I was.
I still remember the first time I felt protected by him. It was when I was in 3rd standard and he was in 5th. A girl bullied me and tore my assignment papers. That evening I ran to San, he was waiting near the car at the school gate. The same car picked both of us to take us back home after school. I wept hard while I told him what had happened. The girl, whose name I don’t remember now, who had bullied me walked past us. I pointed the girl to him and the next moment he was threatening her not to dare look even in my direction again. He was severely punished by the principal as the bully’s father had filed a complaint. But he was so stubborn to not to bring my name up to the principal. As a kid, it was a huge burden to live a year with a bad name from the teachers at school; but he took it all for me. From that time up until now I have always had him by my side to smile for me, to cry for me, to support and nurture me in whatever I do. .
He has sacrificed a lot of things for me. When he had his 12th board exams I had my 10th board examinations. We had our exam dates clashing but that did not bother him. All his focus was in making me get a centum in math and I sucked at math. He was super brilliant but he scored just a 95% while he made me score 100%. If he had spent some time with his books instead of tutoring me, he would have got something that could have been even more than a centum. He has never ever thought anything beyond me and my family. I don’t know how I can repay him for his deeds. I am waiting for him to come, Clara.
~
When I was lost in thoughts from my childhood days, the door-knob clicked and
opened. It was San. The moment he came into my room I ran and hugged him tight. I was again reminded of the way Ashruth responded to my proposal and I started weeping louder than ever before. ‘What happened, sweetheart? Did that bast.. Idiot, Rohan trouble you again?’ his nerves baffled in impatience.
I got out of his hug. ‘No. I am over it now. That chapter of my life has been torn and burnt.’ I couldn’t speak more as anger shut my mouth. I hated Rohan. He was nowhere in my memory of late.
‘Then?’ he asked with more concern.
‘Ash…ruth.’ I didn’t know how San would react to it.
‘What did he do?’ he was almost ready to beat him up. He gritted his teeth and tightened his fist.
‘I fell for him; madly, truly. I really liked him after that day. It’s been just one month since I met him but he has impressed me in all possible ways. I had been thinking about him too much of late.’
‘What?’ his jaw loosened in shock. He did not move even a wee bit. Few drops of tears edged his eyes. I knew he was angry and hurt because I did not let him know about it.
‘Yes, San. Sorry I did not discuss much about it with you.’
He took several minutes to talk. ‘No problem Meeru. We could still discuss about it before you let him know. We need to make sure that he is the ..’
Before he could talk another word I interrupted saying ‘I already told him.’
He looked disturbed and genuinely concerned. ‘And?’
‘And… he rejected my proposal’
‘What?’ he still did not look alright.
‘Yes. I told him today and he turned me down.
‘Over the phone?’ he asked as he turned his back to me.
‘No. He was here today. I was lying in the bed and he sat next to me, like this..’ I enacted the scene and explained what had happened.
‘How dare he…Bas..Sorry, such an idiot he is to say no to a lovely lass like you. I will talk to him and make him marry you, my dear. Don’t worry.’ A few drops of tears rolled down his cheeks as he saw me crying uncontrollably.
Just You, Me and a Secret Page 7