The Rule Breakers

by Preeti Shenoy

  Later that evening, Veda read to her younger siblings and put them to bed. After the others slept, Vidya and she often talked late into the night.

  ‘Didi, I wasn’t joking about Suraj. I noticed him staring at you at the temple,’ Vidya said.

  The niggling voice that had been bothering Veda returned.

  ‘Hmm. I don’t know. He should be focusing on his studies, not following us around,’ Veda replied. She too had noticed Suraj, who was in the same college as her. Secretly, she was flattered that he had noticed her. She was beginning to develop a crush on him. That made her uncomfortable. So she had pretended to ignore him.

  ‘Didi—don’t you feel anything for him? How can you be so immersed in your books? Tell me, don’t the heroines in your books fall in love?’ Vidya persisted.

  ‘Only heroines in books and movies can afford to do all that. Come on, you know my goals, and you know our situation at home. I just want to top my college. I don’t have time for all this.’ Veda was resolute. She did not want to think about Suraj. If their father found out, there would be a heavy price to pay.

  ‘Sometimes, I think you are an old woman, didi,’ said Vidya.

  ‘And what are you, then? The epitome of the follies of youth?’ retorted Veda.

  ‘What? Epitome of what? I didn’t get you.’

  ‘Read some books, improve your vocabulary, and then you will get me,’ Veda snapped.

  ‘I will tell Suraj that you secretly love him, but you are too shy to admit it. Then we will see how your bookish knowledge helps you,’ retorted Vidya.

  ‘What? Vidya! Don’t so any such thing, okay? Promise me you won’t? You will unnecessarily cause problems,’ Veda said, terrified. Her sister was perfectly capable of doing something that crazy.

  ‘You do like him then. Confess!’ laughed Vidya.

  ‘No, I don’t!’

  ‘Then why do you get agitated when I tease you?’

  ‘Because it simply isn’t true! And I don’t want you going around spreading false tales.’ Veda was angry now.

  ‘Didi, it’s just light-hearted fun. Don’t get mad at me,’ Vidya said.

  Veda was silent.

  ‘Alright didi, I am sorry. I won’t say anything to Suraj, and I won’t tease you, okay?’

  ‘Hmm. Okay. Now go to sleep.’

  The two sisters went to bed after that. But Veda couldn’t help wondering if there was a grain of truth to what Vidya had said. Did she truly not know how to have fun? Was she a boring person?

  Veda had a lot of questions running through her head and she fell asleep thinking about whether Vidya was right.

  At college the next day, Veda could hardly focus on the lecture, which was on Milton and the neo-classical age. The lecturer had a voice that droned on pleasantly, and it was easy to lose focus, even when you were alert. Twice she caught herself getting lost in thought, and not being able to recall what the lecturer had been talking about.

  ‘What are the three forms of appeal? Who can tell me?’ the lecturer asked. Veda had no clue.

  She was usually the first to raise her hand when the lecturer asked a question. Today, she found herself lowering her eyes and looking at the textbook, hoping she wouldn’t be called on to answer. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t. Somebody else answered the question and Veda heaved a sigh of relief.

  At recess, one of her friends, Rekha, whom she usually hung out with, asked her what the matter was.

  ‘Eh? Nothing. Nothing is the matter, why?’ asked Veda.

  ‘You seem so lost today.’

  ‘If I ask you something, can I trust you to answer me honestly, Rekha?’

  ‘Have I ever been anything but honest with you? Tell me,’ said Rekha.

  ‘Am I a boring person?’ asked Veda, as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling awkward and self-conscious.

  ‘Hmmmm, let me see, boring? What do you mean by boring?’ Rekha asked, frowning.

  Veda was disappointed that Rekha had not rushed to assuage her feelings. Couldn’t Rekha just assure her that she wasn’t boring? Veda saw that Rekha was thinking about the question, which meant that she probably found her boring, but was too polite to say it. Or perhaps she was wondering how to phrase it. In that instant, Veda regretted even bringing it up. But it was too late—the words were already out there.

  ‘Umm. Nothing. Just forget I asked,’ she said.

  ‘Boring? You definitely aren’t boring. I find you very interesting,’ said a deep male voice behind her.

  Startled, Veda turned around and found herself looking at Suraj.

  He was almost six feet tall, and she had to look up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes looked straight into hers, unwavering. His dark straight hair, though neatly combed, fell across his forehead, and he was clean shaven. He looked much older than everybody else in their class. Often, his striking looks were what people first noticed about him. He had earned a reputation among the college students as a heart-throb, someone whom the ladies chased. Veda knew that he had transferred to Joshimath from Bombay, and that he was living with his grandparents. Although why anyone would leave a glamorous city like Bombay to study in a small town like Joshimath was beyond her.

  Rekha smiled at him and said, ‘How do you know whether she is interesting or boring? You have never even spoken to her.’

  ‘I am speaking to her, now,’ replied Suraj, his eyes not leaving Veda’s.

  His gaze made Veda uncomfortable. She fiddled with her dupatta, adjusting it. She took a deep breath, pulled back her shoulders, stood up straighter and looked back into his eyes.

  ‘So? What do you want?’ she asked, her tone confrontational.

  She did not like that he had walked up behind them and overheard their conversation.

  ‘I just want to have a cup of tea with you. After class, in the canteen?’ he asked, his eyes hopeful.

  He had a dazzling smile and he disarmed her with it. She was taken aback because she did not expect to be mollified this easily, and also because she could see that it was a genuine, sincere and ‘I-want-to-get-to-know-you-better-because-you-fascinate-me’ kind of a smile. Up until now, she had dismissed him as nothing more than a good-looking guy, and perhaps even a flirt. But the way he was looking at her now, almost afraid of being rejected, stirred something in her.

  ‘Ummm, let me think about it,’ she said, not wanting to agree at once.

  ‘I will be waiting. See you there after class,’ he said, as he walked away.

  When he went out of earshot, Rekha pounced on her.

  ‘Suraj has a thing for you! He has the choice of any girl he wants, and he picks the class nerd. Who would have thought! He wants to have tea with you. Why didn’t you say yes at once?’

  With that, all the insecurities that Veda had felt earlier came right back and danced around in her head.

  ‘What do you mean “class nerd”?’ she asked, glancing sideways to see if Suraj was gone, or hiding behind the pillars. Veda knew she wasn’t stylish like the other girls at college. She always wore well-fitted, plain salwar kameezes, which the local tailor stitched. She never ever forgot her dupatta. The necklines were always modest, and other than mixing and matching kurtas and salwars, her style of dressing was always the same. She rarely even changed her hairstyle—she wore it in a centre parting and a ponytail—and Veda knew most people would describe her as ‘plain and simple’. Now here was Rekha, adding to that, terming her the ‘class nerd’. Is that what others thought of her?

  ‘Arey baba, it’s just an expression. Don’t think so much. Just go have coffee with him. Wait till the other girls hear about this,’ said Rekha.

  ‘Rekha, please don’t mention it to the others. Please. . .’

  ‘Why? Why are you so scared? You will only go up a few notches in their eyes, now that you have been asked out by none other than Suraj himself.’

  ‘Shhh! If my father comes to know of this, he is going to be furious.’

  ‘Don’t worry so much about your
father! He isn’t hovering around here, in an invisible form, to keep watch on you. At least in college, relax a bit, Veda, and have fun,’ said Rekha.

  The rest of that day, Veda was distracted, wondering what Suraj could possibly see in her. Why did he want to meet her alone? She decided that she would go, just this one time, to find out what he wanted. If he asked her out again, she would refuse.

  After college got over, nudged by Rekha, Veda hesitantly made her way to the canteen. Her eyes quickly scanned the place.

  Suraj was seated facing the door, so he could spot her as soon as she entered. He waved when he saw her, his eyes lighting up. She nodded in acknowledgement and made her way towards him.

  ‘Hi, thank you for accepting my invitation,’ he said. ‘What will you have, other than tea? Can I get some pakoras?’

  ‘Umm, no. Just tea is fine,’ said Veda.

  ‘Samosas, then? I am kind of hungry.’

  ‘Alright, suit yourself. I am fine with anything,’ she said.

  It was a self-service canteen, and Veda watched Suraj walking to the counter to place the order. Her heart was beating fast. She had never been on a ‘date’ like this with anyone. She wished she was the kind of girl who carried eyeliner and lipstick in her purse, like some of the others in her class. Today, she had been in a rush when she had left home, and she hadn’t even combed her hair properly. Her eyes were devoid of kajal too, and she was conscious that she looked plain.

  He returned with two cups of piping hot tea and a plate of samosas that looked delicious. Suraj said that these were the best samosas in the whole of Chamoli District. Veda couldn’t help but agree, when she bit in.

  ‘What did you want to see me for?’ she asked, between bites.

  ‘Just wanted to get to know you better,’ said Suraj.

  ‘Eh? Is that all? I thought you had some work with me.’

  ‘Isn’t it work, getting to know you? If you ask me, it is a lot of work. I wanted to ask you out that day itself, at the temple. But I wasn’t sure as you were not alone.’

  ‘That was my younger sister. And she did notice you staring at me. She teased me about it later.’

  ‘Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. Just that you were looking positively radiant in that yellow salwar kameez,’ said Suraj. His voice softened when he said that.

  Veda felt a warm, tingly feeling creeping up inside her. She smiled as she sipped her tea, momentarily forgetting how she looked. She had read once that most men never even noticed things like eyeliner—things that women paid great attention to. Suraj was completely at ease, and that made her somewhat comfortable.

  ‘So, what brought you to Joshimath from Bombay?’ she asked, curious to know about this handsome guy with brown eyes. Eyes that she felt she could melt into. She noticed his strong, muscular arms, and his sharp jawline, as well as his Adam’s apple. She was close enough to smell him, and she liked his masculine fragrance. She noticed the rolled-up sleeves of his checked shirt, and the red sacred thread that was tied around his right wrist.

  ‘Ah. It is Mumbai now, not Bombay anymore. It has now been renamed, you know,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, yes. I know that. But in my head, it is still Bombay. Anyway, why did you relocate from Mumbai?’ Veda asked, stressing the word ‘Mumbai’.

  ‘Ummm. . .’ Suraj hesitated. ‘It’s not a happy story that brought me here,’ he said.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked, wanting to know.

  ‘I . . . I lost my parents last year,’ he said, as he looked away. Veda could see it was not easy for him to talk about it. But she was shocked by this sudden revelation.

  ‘How?’ she asked, before she could stop herself. ‘I mean . . . If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine,’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘No, it’s not like it’s a secret. They were killed in that landslide which happened last year, do you remember it?’

  Veda did. It was the biggest tragedy in recent years, the landslide that had occurred on the Rishikesh—Badrinath National Highway 58. A sudden downpour had caused a bus to hurtle into the valley below, killing twelve people. Suraj said that his father as well as his mother had been among the pilgrims killed.

  ‘Oh . . . Oh, I see. I am so sorry,’ said Veda.

  The tragedy was the only thing everyone in Chamoli District had talked about for a long time. It had sent ripples of shock through the community. Hundreds of pilgrims had been stranded at various places because of the landslide for many days, till it was cleared up. At home, they had discussed it at length. They had talked about how lucky her uncle and aunt had been, as they were supposed to have been on that bus. They had decided at the last minute to defer their trip, as one of their children had fallen ill.

  Veda hadn’t personally known anyone who had lost a relative or a friend, till now.

  ‘No, that’s fine. Whatever is destined is bound to happen. I grappled with guilt for a long time. Sometimes, I still feel guilty. My mother wanted me to join them on that pilgrimage, but I had refused, saying that I would stay with my grandmother till they returned.’

  Veda nodded, not knowing what to say. She would have never guessed that he had such a tragic story. Their conversation, which had been light and casual till now, had suddenly taken on a sombre turn with Suraj’s revelation.

  ‘How did you manage?’ she asked, her voice low.

  ‘I stayed with my father’s brother in Mumbai for a while and attended college. I could barely focus on my studies. I lost a year. Now, they have said that they cannot keep me anymore. My cousin is getting married, and he lives with his parents. I can see it will be difficult for them. That is why I came here—to live with my grandmother and to complete my college degree,’ said Suraj.

  ‘Don’t you have any siblings?’ Veda asked.

  ‘No, I am an only child. Sometimes I wish I did. What about you? Do you have siblings?’

  ‘Yes, I have three younger sisters, and a brother.’

  ‘Wow. Lucky you,’ said Suraj.

  Veda had never thought about it. Her bond with her siblings was a close-knit one that had evolved naturally, without any conscious effort. For the first time she realised how valuable it was, and how she had never felt alone as she always had her siblings and her parents around.

  ‘If you don’t mind my asking, how do you manage now? I mean, the money? Your grandmother, does she work?’

  ‘Oh no, she doesn’t. My father had life insurance. So, we have a huge amount that has come to us. My uncle helped in processing all of that. Also, since my father worked for a public-sector undertaking, and he passed away while in service, they have promised me a job as soon as I graduate. My father worked in the same company for about twenty-five years, till he died. Almost everybody knew my father. You know, apart from the life insurance, the company too paid a lump-sum, and then my father’s colleagues, on their own, did a collection drive. I am financially secure,’ said Suraj.

  ‘Oh, that’s a relief then,’ said Veda.

  ‘Yes, but I would rather have my parents,’ said Suraj, his voice barely a whisper.

  Veda felt very sad for Suraj. She wished she wasn’t shy. She wanted to lean over and give him a hug. There was a sadness which clouded his eyes now as he spoke of the tragedy. She wished she could make it go away.

  ‘Look, you will always have a friend in me,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, as he looked away.

  They chatted for a little while longer about the difference in lifestyles in Mumbai and Joshimath. Veda now found herself talking easily to Suraj. He made her feel at ease. The awkwardness she had felt when she had walked into the canteen looking for him had vanished, and it seemed as if they were old friends.

  She then remembered that she had to get home and gasped when she glanced at her watch.

  ‘I didn’t realise the time, I am late,’ she said, as she stood up abruptly.

  ‘Shall I walk you home?’ asked Suraj, standing up too.

  ‘No! No. That
would not be okay. My father. . .’ she trailed off. Speaking to Suraj about how strict her father was felt like a betrayal, and she bit back the words.

  ‘Of course, just forget I even asked,’ said Suraj.

  He knew that Joshimath was full of gossipmongers, and that if they walked back together, news would travel fast through the grapevine. Often, he forgot how small Joshimath was. In Mumbai, there was the anonymity of a big city. The city swallowed you up and you became one with its teeming millions. Nobody cared what you did. Here, it was not like that. Even an incident as trivial as a cow giving birth to a calf, or a street cat having kittens, could become an interesting subject of discussion.

  Veda hurried back home, hastily waving goodbye to Suraj, ignoring the others in the canteen. She was certain they were whispering about her. But her goal now was to reach home as fast as possible.

  On most days, Vidya joined her halfway. They met under a banyan tree that stood at the spot where the roads from Veda’s college and Vidya’s school converged. From here, they walked back home together.

  Today, she found her waiting impatiently, glancing at her watch.

  ‘Where were you, didi? I have been waiting for so long,’ said Vidya.

  ‘I got held up,’ Veda replied, her cheeks flushed.

  ‘Ah, I see! You met Suraj, didn’t you?’ Vidya asked at once.

  ‘What? How? How did you know? Is it that obvious?’ Veda was shocked at how astute her sister was.

  ‘Didi, it isn’t obvious, but I can tell. I know my didi so well,’ said Vidya.

  As they walked up the narrow path that wound around the steep, rocky hill, dotted with dense, green shrubs with wild blue flowers, pine cones and alder leaves, Veda narrated to Vidya all that Suraj had told her. Vidya listened in rapt attention.

  ‘Who would have thought, didi. He looks happy. He looks so calm, that nobody would be able to guess from his demeanour that he has this whole tragedy weighing him down,’ she said. Veda nodded in agreement.