The Green Room

by Nag Mani

She was near the main gate with some senior girls. And somehow, she looked up at him. A smile spread over his face. But she didn’t respond. She looked away and headed to the Girls’ Hostel. Rohan watched her till she disappeared behind a thicket of trees.

  She was gone!

  He sat there. The fact that she had ignored him was torturous. She was certainly embarrassed about hugging him. He closed his eyes. The world was cold without her, charmless. He had already begun to miss her. The school already seemed empty. She would come back for Boards, but he wouldn’t be here then. His session started late. He was so accustomed to seeing her around a random corner that he dreaded the moment he would come back and not find her. It would hurt to train his instincts not to look for her. Seven years, and every day he would get restless to catch a glimpse of her. Seven years… and it had ended. He closed his eyes, and lost track of time.

  She was gone and all he did was watch her leave.

  “Hi!”

  He spun around and his jaw dropped open. There she stood, smiling at him. She had unhooked her badge and had drawn her hair loosely back into a chignon, revealing her prominent jaw line. “How did you find it?” Chandni asked.

  He felt a pinch in his heart. All she wanted was the story. Of course, the story of how he discovered a dead body and its aftermath was interesting enough to bring any girl from the hostel to him. And he thought she had come for him.

  Nevertheless, Rohan began to tell her the story while she sat beside him and listened. She did not speak when he had finished. He avoided any eye contact. They both stared blankly at the main gates, lost in their own thought. She seemed to have known a lot about the previous evening. Apparently, the principal could not keep prefects in the dark.

  Rohan threw her a glance. She was wearing a light pink nail-polish and he had a sudden urge to hold her hands. His eyes fell on her bare neck. Her hairstyle, her perfect jaw line, her cream-like skin… Aware that his eyes were straying, he quickly looked if she had noticed. She hadn’t, and he withdrew his gaze. A black SUV roared passed the gates, carrying a trunk and bedding. “I thought you had left.” Rohan could not hold himself any longer.

  “Without meeting you?” She came out of her thought and turned to face him.

  “Yes, I saw you leave,” he shifted uncomfortably.

  “But I came back, didn’t I?” her voice softened. “These last few weeks have been very special for me. I don’t know… but, it was kind of… nice… working with you. I don’t know what you might think of it but I will always cherish the time we spent together.” She looked away, a demure smile on her face.

  What the hell was going on? It was his imagination, right? He refused to believe it. But his heart… it always did.

  “Please don’t forget me!” she said in a casual tone, but kept her head low, not daring to meet his eyes.

  “Forget you?” and he could say no more. All these years… just a glimpse of her made his day. Forget her? He took her hands into his. He knew his ears had gone as pink as the lovely fingernails in his hands, but he couldn’t stop himself. He knelt down before her. “You are my star, Chandni; the most beautiful star that ever existed. You are my loveliest dream! I have always looked up at you… admired you… wanted to be with you. And now, when my star has come down to her admirer, do you really think I will, ever, let you go, leave alone forget you!”

  Chandni covered her mouth. Her eyes began to sparkle. “Since… when, Rohan?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  “Since the first time I saw you.”

  She hugged him and he hugged her back. “Come to Delhi after you finish here,” she whispered in his ears, pulling him deeper into an embrace.

  “You are going to Delhi after Boards?”

  “Yes. And I will be waiting for you!”

  “That is one full year. What if you meet someone else?” he grinned.

  “Now,” she said and moved away, “if I meet a boy who thinks that I am the most beautiful star and is dumb enough to wait seven years to speak up, I don’t know, I might ditch you then! But practically speaking, you have no competition for next seven years, have you?”

  Rohan laughed and sat down. The sky had darkened and the air turned extremely cold. She sat close beside him and they talked and talked. There was so much to say and so less time. It began with her standing under the lamp-post and him frozen in the centre of Junior School courtyard; but the mountains knew, seven years later, they would be sitting together behind the Library, telling the tales of the years they had spent without each other.

  A car stopped in front of the gates. She had to go. But she lingered as long as she could. Eventually, she stood up, gave him a final hug and left. Rohan watched her get into her car and wave him good-bye. The car rolled away, and this time, she was inevitably gone. But he was happy. All he had to do was wait another year.

  He sat down and watched cars pass the gates, and soon, another car stopped and his father’s assistant stepped out. He had brought a local porter to carry his luggage. Rohan went down to receive him and led the porter to his dormitory. He gave a last glance around once the porter was ready. Bare beds lay scattered. He heard muffled music coming from the prefects’ cubicle. They were probably in the middle of a party. A lone gown hung on a peg. Old shoes and slippers were thrown on the floor while a few pairs were carefully placed beside the television by some attendant.

  His eyes fell on the window. He saw the front quadrangle and in the front quadrangle, standing all alone by the parapet… was a girl. He rushed to the window.

  Kajal!

  He told the porter to go ahead and ran downstairs. He was too excited to realise what he was doing. He stepped out into the quadrangle. Kajal had her back towards him. A sweet breeze came from the mountains. Straight ahead, the horizon, straighter than a ruler, separated the dark grey air below from the orange-red sky above. The deep violet sky lightened as it flowed westward, ending in a deep shade of red above the horizon. The moon glowed magnificently above the mountain ridge to his right with a bright star below it. And far ahead, denser than stars in the night sky, shimmered a town spread out in the plains.

  Rohan moved towards her in a small arc. Slowly, he approached the parapet and she turned to face him. He felt a fresh wave of excitement thrill him to his core. She was so beautiful! Yet her eyes emanated sadness that made even the mountains cry. All his excitement drowned. He felt a lump in his throat. He took a daring step closer and stopped, too afraid to come any closer, too nervous to even flex a muscle. She smiled, a sad smile. Rohan stood rooted to his spot. They looked at each other. Time paused. She was so close, yet she belonged from a place that was separated by time, far away from his reach. He looked… and he looked…

  And then he blinked… and she was gone!

  Rohan stood alone in the cold night. He went over to the spot she had been standing on, and tried to view the world through her eyes. A little girl joins a school, shy and intimidated and alone. She studies in the same classrooms, plays in the same corridors and grows up among the same mountains. Years roll by and she is now a part of a play. How happy she is, how excited! She sees a bright future, weaves new dreams. Then that cruel night… the darkest in her life. That part of her life he would never be able to visualise. She knows how dying feels. But she doesn’t tell. There is a gap. But she is back. She is standing next to the same parapet. The same moon is shining down upon her, the same mountains encircling her, the same sparkling city, maybe denser, unaware of her. She is looking at the same Auditorium, and what she thinks, only she knows. And there is this boy. Maybe same… like all the juniors of her time. Maybe not.

  Rohan shook his head. Something caught his eyes, something in the flowerbed of the parapet. It was an earring; the same earring he had thrown away. Rohan looked around, expecting to see her again. But she wasn’t there. He picked it up, smiling unconsciously. He was not going to lose it again.

  He watched the silent mountains on his way to Kathgodam. Their peaks bathed in silver moon
light while their feet were lost in the darkness of the valleys. A few lights twinkled in some of them, coming from distant villages or lone houses. The moon followed him all the way. His car meandered down the mountains and before he realised it, he was sitting by a window in a train, looking out at the silhouette of the giant mountains against the sky, cold breeze ruffling his hair. Somewhere out there, spread out under the moon, was his school. Somewhere in that school was the Library and behind that Library he had been sitting this evening with someone. A smile spread over his face. And then, somewhere in that school was the Green Room and he almost heard her scream again. But she was gone now… forever. Then why did he have this feeling that she was still there, watching him?

  The train began to move and the mountains began to diminish. Rohan craned his neck. The tracks curved and the mountains disappeared abruptly.

  He caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. It had to be her! She couldn’t just… go. She had to come back.

  No. It was nothing.

  And ever since, his eyes searched for her in every dark corner, always alert, thirsty for the slightest glimpse of her. He knew he would see her again.

  But he never did.

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  About The Author

  Nag Mani is an alumnus of one of the elite boarding schools of the country – Sherwood College, Nainital. After having spent eight wonderful years in the picturesque landscape, he has penned down some of his experiences into his first novel. He is currently pursuing B.Tech from Delhi Technological University. Besides writing, he loves gymnastics, trekking and chess.

  contact@nagmani.xyz