by Varsha Dixit
‘I am not finished. When speaking look somewhere in this area,’ Aditya said, touching his forehead where the hairline began. ‘Not in the eye, but here,’ he repeated.
‘It’s not that simple!’ Nandini croaked, clutching her stomach. The anxiety came back just thinking of it.
‘Nandini, go home and practise your speech in front of the mirror a few times, avoiding your own eyes. You’ll get the drift. Also, make sure you get a few hours of sleep.’
Nandini’s eyes shone with hope. ‘Do you really think it will work?’
‘Of course, and worse come to worse, when everything else fails just faint. I heard you are quite good at that,’ Aditya drawled, breaking in a sneer.
‘Wonderful! So you know about that, too?’ Peeved, Nandini clucked her tongue. People around me, possess manhole-sized mouths, she fretted. ‘Thanks for your help!’ Nandini said, haltingly. Showing gratitude to your nemesis is not easy.
‘What time is your presentation?’ Aditya asked.
‘My group is second to go on. So, probably around eleven in the morning. Why?’
‘Just!’ Aditya replied, shrugging his shoulders. ‘All the best, now go home and quit whining.’ He got to his feet.
Because of his recent and unexpected kindness, Nandini meekly took the suggestion.
11
Bundalbaz
(Flashback continues...)
‘N andi, eat something,’ Nirbhay coaxed, offering her a piece of sandwich.
‘Papa, I’ll throw up!’ Nirbhay hastily put the food back on the plate.
‘I don’t think I can do this!’ Nandini whimpered, lips clenched, colour pale. The sound of the heavy front door opening, distracted them.
‘Good morning!’ Aditya called out, coming in. He appeared full of high spirits and cheerfulness.
Bloody chavanprash ka dabba, Nandini cursed.
‘Hello Aditya,’ Nirbhay greeted.
‘What are you doing here?’ Nandini blurted out.
‘Somebody’s got to get this nervous wreck to college... right uncle?’ Aditya said, taking a seat at the breakfast table.
‘That effort will require nerves of steel and the patience of a saint,’ Nirbhay replied, smiling.
‘In case you both haven’t noticed, I am still here,’ Nandini crabbily retorted, even though she could not understand why some of the tension dissipated.
‘What will you have for breakfast, Adi?’ Shruti inquired, stepping out of the kitchen, a glass of milk in her hand.
‘Thanks Aunty, I just ate!’
The glass of milk was extended at Nandini, ‘Here you go, drink your Bournvita!’
‘Maa, I swear I will throw up!’
Aditya snickered. ‘You still drink Bournvita?’
Cheerfully, Shruti enlightened, ‘Since class fifth Nandini insisted on making her own milk. Only recently, I found out, that all those years, slyly, she had been adding coffee instead. Now, she is making up for all those years of lying.’
‘No wonder! So many years of caffeine have done obvious damage.’ Aditya quipped.
‘Shut up! Mind your own beeswax!’ Nandini hissed.
‘Nandini!’ Her father, as all parents could, turned her name into a verbal smack. ‘You both should leave now,’ he then added, glancing at his watch.
Nandini bobbed her head several times in the puja room.
‘1000 bucks she won’t be able to speak,’ Nirbhay, softly, remarked to Aditya.
‘5000 she will!’ Aditya responded, quietly.
Nandini hugged her mother tight.
‘You are not going for war!’ Aditya scoffed. Nandini glared at him .
Nandini’s and Aditya’s drive to her college was made listening, to Def Leppard, Tim Mcgraw, Maroon 5 to name a few. One of them listened to music, and the other promised, impeccable behaviour and innumerable good deeds, to every god of all religions.
Aditya’s presence in Nandini’s college created quite a ruckus. Almost every girl and a few boys just for an introduction claimed to be Nandini’s ‘longtiya yaar’.
‘This is as far as you go?’ Nandini croaked, pausing in front of the examination hall. Her bones were conducting a symphony orchestra, with the heart providing crude twangs.
‘I am coming inside,’ Aditya responded.
‘You are not a student. How can you come inside?’
‘At the ardent invitation of your principal,’ Aditya smiled, wickedly. ‘Yesterday after you left, I called your principal and gave him a cock and bull story about wanting to observe the dynamics of the India study system for a thesis, I am allegedly writing. I am a very persuasive man, he couldn’t say no.’
In spite of what she was about to face, Nandini blurted, ‘You do realise how that last part sounded?’
‘Shut up and get inside, guinea pig!’ Aditya ordered, giving her a gentle push. Everyone took assigned seats.
Sometime later, Nandini’s group member said, ‘Please welcome the next speaker from our group, Nandini Sharma. She will share with you the quantum research conducted for this project.’
Nandini dipped even further in the chair, her hair covering her face. ‘Get up move! Everyone is waiting!’ The girl sitting next to her urgently whispered, repeatedly jabbing Nandini, hard, in the thighs .
Aditya loudly coughed, Nandini instantly looked up. He gave her a slow, confident smile. Nandini managed to get up and hobble over to the podium. Aditya furtively raised his hand. Her eyes blindly followed it. He touched his hairline.
Gluing her eyes to the spot, Nandini commenced speaking... stiltedly. She was almost at the end of her monologue when somewhere in the audience a cell rang.
In the back of the crowd, a boy stood up, his eyes met Nandini’s.
Aditya, mouthing an obscene expletive, turned around to glare at the perpetrator.
The damage was done. ‘Ughh... the...’ Nandini moaned, sweat appearing on her forehead. Some students rudely heckled and the panic attack slammed into her. Nandini hopelessly looked at Aditya. A second later, in an untidy heap, she crumpled to the floor.
Sprinting up the few stairs, Aditya was the first to reach her. ‘Nandini get up!’ His hand, gently caressed, her sticky forehead and cheeks.
Slyly, Nandini opened her eyes slightly and winked at him. ‘When everything else fails, just faint,’ she whispered. Aditya caught on. A few others including her professor had joined them.
‘What happened?’ someone asked, offering a glass of water.
‘Probably, because of the exams she hasn’t eaten or slept enough,’ Aditya said, assisting Nandini in sitting up.
On cue, Nandini raised miserable eyes at her professor. ‘Let me try finishing my piece,’ she offered, gulping.
‘No, no Nandini, you need to rest. I can see that you know your subject. Do not worry about the marks. You have done well. Now go home and rest, finals will begin soon,’ her professor replied.
‘I’ll take her home, she’s my neighbour.’ Aditya offered, politely.
Crap! Why did he have to reveal that, Nandini fumed silently.
‘Oh! You live next to the Sarins. What is your father’s name?’ questioned the principal; concern for the almost dying student second to his curiosity. Small towns functioned like that; everyone was into knowing names, not necessarily the person! Especially when it had anything to do with the state proclaimed first family.
‘Nandini and I, we’re family friends!’ Aditya prattled off, straight faced.
Gaayi puri ki puri bhains pani mein. Might as well apply to another college in another city, Nandini decided. She lurched unsteadily.
‘I should get home. Thank you sir,’ Nandini offered, for effect, resting her head on Aditya’s shoulder. They exited the examination hall followed by several, giggling brainless bimbettes.
‘Are you alright, Nandini? Shall we come home with you?’ the girls heckled, giggling.
‘I will kill you Aditya!’ Nandini threatened, in hushed tones. No one except Sneha knew of her closeness with
the Sarins. Detesting pretentious and need-driven friendships, Nandini kept her support system small and genuine.
‘That’s the thanks I get?’ Aditya whispered, back. ‘Fine!’ It sounded more like an ultimatum.
12
Aaj, Kal, Parso
(Flashback continues...)
B efore Nandini knew what hit her, Aditya effortlessly picked her up in his arms. ‘You can’t walk. You poor thing, no problems... I’ll carry you.’ His voice was more than loud.
The girls behind drooled, gushing. ‘Ooh, lucky Nandini. You can carry me too, strong man! Watch your back or we will!’ boomed the loud catcalls and whistles.
Nandini cowered, humiliated. ‘I will kill you Aditya! Put me DOWN!’ Her order sounded more like a plea.
‘Apologise then!’ Aditya ordered, thoroughly enjoying her squirming form in his arms.
Nandini measured the distance to the college gate, too damn far. They would pass the staff room and canteen. ‘Fine! Sorry, now put me down!’ through gritted teeth, she begged.
‘Say please! ’
‘Please!’ she bit out tightly.
‘Sorry Nandini, you are too heavy. You will have to walk!’ Aditya said, putting her down. He purposely flexed his arms drawing attention to his buffed upper body. Around them, the puddles of spit, rapidly, increased in numbers and size.
‘All bloody baboons! Missed the train to evolution!’ Nandini cursed. Fuming, she strode towards his car and waited. After waving several times to his tittering audience, Aditya got in and they drove away from the college.
Nandini immediately vented, ‘I can’t believe you are such an egocentric, cocky, arrogant—’
‘Don’t forget, I was here to help you and you know I did,’ Aditya said, his laughing eyes surveying the pretty spitfire. Angry dark eyes, errant strands of hair fluttering against flushed cheeks were captivating. The fact that she is so clueless of her own look makes her even more alluring, Aditya thought. He put his eyes back on the road.
‘Thank you.’ A few minutes later, Nandini said, gruffly.
‘You’re welcome.’
It dawned on Nandini what she had almost pulled off. ‘Oh my goddd! Can you believe it? I was actually able to speak in front of a crowd for the first time ever !’ Her voice held awe.
‘Well that wasn’t really speaking; it was more like headless chicken dance, if you ask me.’ Aditya poker faced, offered his opinion.
Nandini was simply, too, happy to be offended. ‘Aditya seriously, thank you. I could not have done it without you. I owe you big!’ Mindlessly, she patted his hand on the wheel.
The car had stopped on a red light. Aditya grasped her hand and leaned in, his face almost touching hers. Nandini’s eyes, startled, widened .
‘Then, I guess it’s time to pay up,’ he murmured, his fingers stroked the soft skin on the insides of her wrist.
Even though she desperately wanted to, Nandini could not look away. For a few seconds ,they stared at each other. A jarring horn distracted them; Aditya straightened putting the car back into drive.
Nandini blinked several times, turning to stare at the passing vehicles with glazed eyes. What would have happened had we not been interrupted, she wondered, timidly. She touched her wrist, which she had never imagined to be so sensitive to touch.
‘You could begin by dishing digits?’ Aditya said, clearing his throat.
‘Digits, what’s that?’ Nandini asked, still not all quite there.
‘Digits as in phone numbers of some girls in your college, I have the names.’
Nandini turned to look at him; Aditya was now wearing his sunglasses. She saw herself reflected in them. How does he see me? The thought popped in her head to be instantly shooed away. ‘Sure do tell?’ she prompted.
Aditya, staring ahead, rattled off several names and descriptions. Nandini’s not my type. Remember CNN, ESPN! Lassi in a wine glass! Aditya kept reinforcing the thoughts, fighting hard for self-control, which had almost slipped when she had touched him.
Her entire sheltered life, Nandini had never come across anyone like Aditya – self-assured, intelligent, good looking and so polygamous . Nandini could not refrain herself, ‘Wow, eleven numbers! Why are you so much into girls? ’
‘I don’t think my parents would approve if I was into boys,’ Aditya bantered.
‘C’mon, you know what I mean?’ Nandini’s face held equal shades of exasperation and curiosity.
‘What’s the harm? I don’t force or lead anybody on. The other person is very clear about my honourable intentions or lack of them,’ Aditya replied.
‘Virtually everyone has a past, which usually features one or two or maybe five people. But you have had and are with so many. Aditya, you could start your own country!’
‘One or two or max five! Where do you get these numbers from... BSE?’ Aditya derided. ‘And please, don’t believe everything you hear and read. Most of it is nonsense.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes really! Anyway, since when did you care?’ Aditya countered.
‘I just don’t understand all this numerous or simultaneous affairs and relationships. You probably don’t believe in marriages either?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Aditya teased, grinning boyishly, as he glanced at Nandini.
‘Because we are still twenty minutes away from home. What, are you ashamed to talk about it?’ Nandini provoked.
After keeping quiet for several minutes, Aditya finally said, ‘I deeply believe in marriages and feel those should happen only once... and with the person you are very sure of. But I don’t believe in love!’
‘You don’t believe in love !’ Nandini’s face held absolute shock.
At her expression, Aditya smirked. ‘Yup I don’t. However, I strongly and completely believe in lust, sugar coated as attraction, and deep friendship between a man and a woman. So, the day I find someone whom I am deeply attracted to and have a lot in common with, I just might settle down,’ Aditya replied, articulating some very private thoughts for the first time.
Aditya usually kept his reasons and rationale to himself. In his arrogance, he had decided that no one was ‘cool’ enough to be let loose in his mind. So far his non-conforming and bohemian ideas, had lead to some nasty and some quite amazing encounters.
‘Hmmm... well to find out or form a deep friendship, you have to be with a person... one person, for longer than a few months,’ Nandini said.
Aditya disagreed. ‘Who says? If and when it has to happen it can happen in days, weeks.’
Nandini fired next. ‘You believe in destiny?’ As men can’t talk enough about sports, breasts and imagined conquests, women inherently trust their lives to animals (zodiac signs), and cards which they can’t even read themselves.
‘Nope, but I believe in opportunity. I think every being gets an opportunity or choice at every crucial step of their life. To get the right things, you have to do the right things.’ Aditya was taken back at his own words. Damn! I sound freakishly similar to the old man, he thought. Near this girl, things were just tripping out of his mouth.
Nandini, comically, scratching her forehead, asked, ‘Are we still talking about the same thing?’
Aditya chuckled; his eyes and dimples crinkling, ‘I don’t think so. Can we ever be on the same page?’
‘Heavy fundas dude!’ Nandini mocked .
Aditya amicably, mocked her right back. ‘Tell me about it. What about you? You must be a total believer in love. Daniel Steel, Linda Goodman and all that!’
‘I believe in love but the kind which doesn’t exist,’ replied Nandini, only to become extremely self-conscious. I had opened my mouth to take a pot-shot at Aditya, why did I say that instead, she wondered.
Aditya gave her a muddled look. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing... really nothing!’
‘C’mon, dish ASAP. I told you stuff didn’t I?’
Shaking her head, Nandini vehemently muttered, ‘No ways !’
‘Fine, this car is going nowhere!’ Aditya, abruptly, brought the Mercedes to a complete standstill, bang in the middle of the rushing traffic. Thankfully, they were not rear ended; however, loud horns and voices blared.
‘Drive Aditya! Everyone’s glaring at us,’ Nandini hollered. In the overwhelming cacophony of horns, he tossed her an imperious challenging look.
Nandini gave in. ‘Fine, aaj, kal... parso!’ she, lobbed the three random words, loudly between them.
‘What?’ Aditya asked, baffled.
‘I shall elaborate. Please drive first.’
When they had driven some distance away, Nandini heavily confessed, ‘I believe in unconditional, absolute love. The kind, that lasts you a lifetime, even if the person does not. Today, tomorrow, day after! Aaj, kal, parso!’ Nandini kept her face turned away from him. The revelation was too personal. Nandini would rather have someone catch her without clothes .
‘Wow! You are even crazier than you look. Where did you pick that line? From a fortune cookie or the ass of a truck?’ Aditya exclaimed.
Nandini flashed him a quick wry smile. ‘You won’t understand,’ she said.
Aditya kept glancing back at Nandini’s grave face. He finally asked, ‘You actually believe in that?’
‘Afraid so!’ Nandini’s voice held no shimmy or shake of uncertainty.
‘Have you ever been in that kind of a relationship?’ Aditya inquired, unconsciously tensing.
‘Nope.’
Aditya warned, ‘Be careful Nandini. Don’t fall in love with the wrong man or you’ll die of a broken heart.’
Nandini agreed, ‘I agree. That’s why I have chosen arranged marriage for myself... take away please.’
Silence stretched between them. Either the four-door swanky luxury car suddenly compressed or Nandini and Aditya felt an inordinate closeness to each other.
Aditya increased the cooling. ‘That’s a great idea. Arranged marriage might just work for me, too, with someone of similar tastes, and background. It’s probably simpler than finding the person on your own,’ he voiced, lightly.
‘All the best! We’re home,’ Nandini said, flummoxed by the hurt engulfing her at Aditya’s words, ‘someone with similar tastes, and background.’