Truly Madly Deeply

by Faraaz Kazi

  “And stop this romeogiri from now, I’m getting engaged to a distant cousin as soon as the boards are over. Seeing me with you will simply make tongues wag and I don’t want anything to do with you, I’m not at all interested in you…”

  He had heard about the rumours but hearing it from her mouth, confirmed the news and his sorrow found a voice.

  “No Seema, never! How could you be interested in me? How can you love me? You can roam around with other people, give them your precious time and make me jealous but you can’t love me. No, you can’t!’’ Rahul started.

  “I’m not here to…” Seema tried to argue but Rahul raised his tone over hers.

  “My luck! I know I was foolish, I was such an arse, I was stupid but then God forgives the biggest of all sins, and you being a human couldn’t even forgive a handful of my mistakes. One last chance was all I wanted but wanting that chance was also a mistake Seema, Mea culpa Seema, mea maxima culpa!”

  “You are mad…” Seema tried to cut her way in but Rahul would not let her.

  “Shut up! Yes, I’m mad. Mad for you, mad for your love that I have chased for so long. It was always me who would listen while you talked but no, today it’s my turn to talk and yours to listen. Enough is enough!”

  Rahul punched his wrist on the peeled off yellow wall of the old chawl behind Seema on which she was leaning for support. A chunk of the wall came off along with the skin of his knuckles. That seemed to calm him down a little, giving vent to his fury. Seema’s face was panic-stricken but as always, she did an unerring job of controlling her emotions. Rahul softened up.

  “Seema, I know I was wrong on some occasions but I never did anything deliberately. On some occasions it was the need of the hour and on other occasions, I was just following my heart’s instincts and I feel that the heart is never wrong. Yes, I agree I was at fault sometimes, due to the influence of some people… or just because of some stupid misconceptions and the situations and challenges that life threw at me.

  “Seema, even you were wrong sometimes. I never pointed a finger at you except for the phone call incident which I agree was the biggest goof up my ego caused, but you ostracised me like I was no one at all.

  “You know Seema, I have always told myself that love is not like flirting but yes, a bit of flirting is always healthy with the person you love, what you think I do, right? Moreover, that’s not casual flirting. It had a purpose. It meant that I loved you, which I still do to the core. But for you, my words remained filmy dialogues; my emotions remained a mere act of stringing words together, whereas for me, it only meant love.”

  Seema shifted uncomfortably.

  “I love you immensely, Seema. I love you so much, that this life is nothing and even if I had a million lives, I would not think for a second and never hesitate to lay them before your feet, and for me it would be nothing … nothing at all and I can say this with pride today, perhaps the prospect of never getting to see you again eggs me on. I wish there was a word more than ‘love’ itself to convey what I feel for you.”

  Seema shut her eyes momentarily. Her face was expressionless but ears cocked up. She was listening intently, not caring that the ten minutes Rahul had asked, before she went for her tuitions,

  were long over. Rahul’s voice softened further as he quoted an

  Urdu shayari,

  ‘Yakeen har rishte ki buniyaad hota hai,

  tut jaaye agar to judna kahan aasan hota hai,

  Kehna aasan hain humein yakeen nahi hain tumpe,

  lekin dard is Lafz ka be-panah hota hain.’

  (‘Trust is the base for all relations,

  If it breaks, then it’s not easy to rejoin,

  It’s very easy to say ‘I don’t trust you’,

  But the pain these words cause is immense.’)

  Seema lifted her eyes and tried to look away, but Rahul’s gaze held her to where she was, as she was.

  He sighed before continuing,

  “I know many people told you against me, told you to keep off me. They said I am this and that and I am bad. I was playing with you and toying with your character. I ask, didn’t you have faith in me? Didn’t you place your trust in me? Trust is that part of the relation without which no relation would stand and once lost, it’s difficult to regain. My trust in you was like the small child’s; who, when thrown in the air, expects to be caught, but you dropped me down, and not a moan escaped my lips.

  “We never confessed our feelings before, but that day I did, would you have reacted the same way, walking out on me if I had told you that earlier during our memorable days when it was quite

  evident that you liked me? Even for old times’ sake, you didn’t stop. Is that all you had for me? All the good times evaporated

  like naphtha, the moment some air of misconceptions touched it. I was not asking you to marry me on the spot …damn it! I was not asking you to run away with me. I had a point, didn’t I? It was understood that I will marry you the right way after talking it out with the elders. It’s ok with me if I cannot date you, if I cannot romance you, but at least I will get you in my life, which is all I have lived for!

  “Once I stand on my feet, I would desire your hand. When I am in a position to give you all the happiness in the world, both abstract and materialistic, we can begin a new life. You just had to say a simple ‘YES’ to a marriage proposal which comes from a boy whom you have liked and dumped without even trying to sort it out!

  “Love never comes with a brochure of rules and regulations, a prospectus with guides of what is acceptable and what is abominable. It’s a standard to follow your heart, and that’s what I did and if doing that hurt you, then I’m sorry… sorry for coming in your life and wasting your time, for causing you an anguish so great that you could not bear the sight of me. Today, I am proud to stand up and honour myself and proclaim to the world… yes, I loved someone more than myself. I loved someone truly, madly, deeply. I have always thought of love as someone in some mushy film rightly pointed out, like a bird in a cage which you should set free, if it returns; it’s yours, and if it doesn’t…” Rahul trailed off, his voice cracking.

  He paused for a couple of seconds to regain his voice, the brittleness of which was evident when he continued after a stony silence that rang aloud in Seema’s ears as a lull before a storm.

  He sniffed the air and looked at the sky.

  “I know you didn’t put your money on me for topping the boards in school. I know you discussed with your friends and debated on whether I would be getting even a minimum of a distinction. No… no… no… I appreciate your thoughts,” Rahul said as he saw Seema opening her mouth to say something.

  He absent-mindedly continued, “You didn’t congratulate me when I stood third in the school. For you, I guess the rank won’t even be in consideration. I would have been first too if I would have been the Rahul of yore, if I would have been like you, if you would have been a little more sympathetic towards my love. If, if and if…it could have been so different. It was so hard to accept that you didn’t wish me on my birthday. A single word of congrats or a personal birthday wish would have made me happy, would have caused me ceaseless joy, giving me sleepless nights for a different reason altogether, but I knew you won’t have done it and you always fulfil my expectations, don’t you?”

  Rahul wiped a tear that was covering fast ground from his right eye to his upper lip, with the back of his hand.

  “Seema, you’re my life, my first love and perhaps my last! They say your first love is your true love and it will find you, but I know, mine won’t be the case!”

  He closed his eyes momentarily. Opening them again,

  he continued.

  “You should never have involved your mother into this! She almost went to the principal and my image was destroyed when she talked about me in front of the assembled crowd. But that doesn’t matter to me today. She can do it again if she wants, the whole world can be her audience. If that makes you happy, then I am ready to spoil my
image and everything else, everywhere. It doesn’t matter anymore as long as you smile, because I will only do things that will make you happy.”

  Seema didn’t look up, when Rahul continued. She was feeling heaviness seep in her chest. She wanted to justify her stand too but her thoughts were frozen by his distressed voice.

  “The tears of my eyes watered your heart but failed to evoke a response from the barren grounds of what beats in you. They will still come and I will welcome them because they contain you.

  Even if it’s pain, it’s a gift from you and I cannot decline that because I worshipped you. And if I die, and this kills me …I will consider myself the luckiest person in this world for my God has killed me.”

  Seema let out an audible gasp, but Rahul showed her his hand again, signalling her to stop before he continued.

  “Someday you’ll find someone, perhaps you already have and imagining that sight of you in someone else’s arms shatters my already shredded heart and I would have no one to collect those pieces. I do wonder when I go, would you still think of me? Or for you I would still be just another face in the crowd, just one amongst your fifty-five followers, a bad dream that haunted you or a memory that time will erase.

  “I will never forget our days together, those innocent encounters and those nervous incidents when you were everything I dreamt off. You still are, but then the dreams had just begun to take shape. Now, I realise how futile those dreams were! If those dreams ever taught me something; they taught me never to dream again. My feelings for you would not be conquered by time. If I had the time in my hands, I wish I could take back those moments that snatched you away from me or maybe just wipe away those ten minutes when you came to me for the first time and I looked into your eyes to realise what love is. I let you slide away from my arms and never realised the pain it would give me, the amount of regret that it will burn into my soul to such an extent that it will rob me of my peace, sleep and sanity.

  “What is time for a foolishly ignorant lover? What is space to a broken heart? How can such dimensions satiate the appetite of love? I would live on, though life departs. I would live on

  without a soul. In its place will be your memories and howsoever

  I may try to ignore them, I know, I won’t succeed. I cannot even

  ask these memories to let me go then, because they’re all I would have of you; from the ocean of hope to the fire of despair that

  they gave me, I will treasure them and keep them buried in the layers of my heart where they will remind me of you, each day,

  each moment. At some point, I do visualise myself running

  away from them as they haunt me day and night, but wherever

  I go, they will find me everywhere and on them, I would thrive and on them, I would survive,” Rahul said in a voice unlike his, the words flowing from the inside but finding an obstruction in his throat.

  “But don’t worry, I’ll live on even though I don’t think it matters to you, whether I live or die, whether I am happy or sad. You told me that today when you came, and somewhere deep down in my conscience, I always knew that. Whether I am there or not, I just hope Seema that you don’t forget me, don’t ever keep any grudges against me and don’t live with any misconceptions. I just want to say that whatever I did, I did either unknowingly or because of

  my immatureness.

  “I know you would not want to be with me ever. You would be happy without seeing my damned face. You would be much joyful if you would not hear my cursed voice. You would be more than delighted not having to bear my filthy touch or spend your priceless time with me, though howsoever desperately I want you back. But more than that, I want you to be happy. I didn’t want a thing that you never desired and I don’t desire a thing that you would never think of. You might have heard this before, but I know my million words won’t bring you back… I know because I have tried, nor would my million tears… I know because I have cried.”

  Seema sensed the gradually increasing hollow feeling; poke her chest in an accusing manner. She held her bag close to her bosom and looked down. The ground suddenly resembled the waves of the sea.

  “Come what may, I can never forget you. Do remember me

  Seema; when you pass by the memorabilia in school, when somebody mentions me, when you see people connected to me, when you visit the McDonalds we had visited, when you pass by that bus stop which was my second home, when you see

  someone’s sketch that even faintly resembles the one you tore mercilessly and just remember me, if your heart does! Seema, that’s all I ask from you,” Rahul said, moving backwards and stopped abruptly, stepping forward again. There was a tear taking shape in Seema’s hazel eyes.

  “Seema, I always want to see you happy and that is why I talked what I talked today. So please don’t cry. I’m sorry for getting so desperate and troubling you. I’m sorry for shouting at you today as my frustration finally got hold of my heart. I just ask you to stay happy for me. As your Shahrukh Khan says in Chalte-Chalte, ‘Remember, someone, somewhere in some corner of this somewhat big world, is out there crying if you’re unhappy and is happy if you are! And you know who that someone is!’ Let this be a parting filmy dialogue as you say. I will be happy remembering you, basking in your memories, imagining the what-if’s of my life. Smile for me… one last time… c’mon smile… one last request,” Rahul coaxed and Seema let out a smile, though not so heartily. Her eyes were filled and her mind was not in control of herself, for the first time her inner self was dancing to someone’s orders.

  Rahul casually wiped the tears away with his white handkerchief. He clicked her image in his mental camera. He savoured her beauty and the smooth tenderness of her skin as it brushed his fingers. He shut his eyes taking her in, seeing her smile. He would treasure that little smile just as he would treasure her memories.

  “Seema, I guess it’s time. You are getting late for your tuitions and from today; I will fulfil your wish that you have been repeating to me for so long. I promise I won’t trouble you from now. You can comfortably roam around everywhere. I won’t be there to disturb you again. So, I guess ...this is farewell,” Rahul said slowly.

  Seema was quick to look up, but quick to avert Rahul’s vehement gaze too.

  “I will always pray to God to keep you happy. Perhaps, we will never meet again. A part of me hopes, we don’t. Let this last moment be a lesson to all those youngsters like me, out there waiting to fall in love. Let them know it’s a tough path out there, and the chances of not finding true love are very high. It’s a difficult and unjust life out there, where there are no second chances,” he highlighted the latter part casually.

  The look on Seema’s face suggested that somewhere she thought

  that this was another drama being enacted by Rahul. She was confident he would be at the same spot the next day, trying to come up with such dialogues to appeal to her. Somewhere she hoped what she felt was true. Was her subconscious too used to Rahul’s presence even when she was ignoring him like the dirt of her sandals? She guessed it was.

  “Bye Seema. Take care and yes, if it matters I will miss you because I love missing you and that’s because I LOVE YOU!” Rahul turned, walking down the alley, leaving his parting words echoing in the mind of his listener.

  He wanted to, but he did not look behind. His eyes were filled with an ocean of tears, blurring his vision, clearing the dirt of his senses. He tried holding them, sniffing them in, shutting his eyes but he overestimated himself there too, as they failed to meet his expectations. Knowing they wanted to flow for one last time, he ignored the demands of his eyes which begged him to feed them, her graceful vision. The tears hit him with the force of a violent storm. He laid a blanket over his dreams, hoping against hope

  never to uncover the treacherous fragments of his life. Not watching the path where his legs took him, he walked on because he knew he had to walk ahead, leaving his past behind. And at that moment, as his quivering hand slipped in his pocket to hold onto his
handkerchief, something fell out of it, something that caught Seema’s infallible attention, something that he had forgotten to give her – his parting gift!

  ***

  LOVE BREAKS THROUGH LOCKS AND PICKS THEM ALL ATLAST!

  Rahul washed his face in the small trickle that flowed from the basin adjoining the kitchen. The reeking smell of the hospital was still emanating from his body as he had not taken a bath since the past two days due to a problem with the hostel’s water supply. He set out of his room to take a morning stroll, deciding to walk a quarter of the length of Algon Avenue and back. The roads were deserted and the constant bustle of cars was missing. He decided he needed to loosen up a bit having stayed in bed for most of the time.

  By the time he left the hostel, the sun was up. A small freckled boy with a stack of newspapers bundled behind, cycled past him, greeting him a good morning, to which he nodded back. The familiar sight of singular penthouses, almost identical on either side of the road, popped up as he walked towards the left. The delicious aroma of morning coffee from one of the homes reached his cold nostrils and he paused to relish it. He decided to seek out a cup of coffee on his way. He saw some kids dressed in a black and white tee and matching shorts staring at him as they went past him in the opposite direction. He thought he had seen them in school.

  They were having the big baseball game, a part of the school’s annual rituals. Rahul did not feel like attending as he had never taken any interest in that game. His only understanding of the game was of the big six, the batsmen hit out of the playground screaming ‘Homerun’, and then the bowler coming up with a speedy reply, making the batsmen miss three balls on the trot and yet calling it a ‘Strike’. The weird shaped bat resembled the one his Indian maidservant used to wash their clothes with, pounding them with force in the frothy washroom when the washing machine was not so common in Indian households.

  Sahil had urged him to come and watch the game if he felt all right but Rahul had asked him to go ahead and have fun. Sahil had been supportive; bringing homemade food for Rahul, reminding him to take medicines and even sitting with him when his uncle visited him. That time, Rahul was trying to act fine seeing family before him after a long time. He had somehow felt strange doing that, so the effort to make his uncle feel welcome was not upto the mark. He had nodded and tried to speak for most of the time, trying to keep his portly uncle engaged in conversation. Sahil had been pleased to see this side of Rahul, who was happy that he had stayed back with him when his uncle had visited.