Being goofy, fooling around, silly antics – all of that came naturally to me. This did not. Not at all. I cleared my throat. As I mustered up courage, the image of an angry Purva dragging me out of this room flashed out of nowhere and I shut my mouth.
My throat felt dry. The room was too warm. My cheeks felt very hot. My heart beat too fast.
Purva, meanwhile, had come up to me.
‘How can I help you?’ he asked formally, his face giving away nothing. Had he told me to get lost, I would have, without giving this matter another thought, about-turned and left. That is how much I wanted to avoid what I knew was on its way: a confrontation.
I said nothing. I stood still. Not because I wanted to but because I was singularly incapable of either movement or words.
‘Umm…’ I ventured after a little bit.
Purva looked questioningly at me, his x-ray-like eyes scanning my face so intently that I felt like I did not belong in my own skin.
I looked down at my hands, at the carpet, at my shoes, at his shoes … and then my mind wandered … wandered to Purva … I began to imagine how it would have felt to be in his place – to have loved someone with such honesty and have her do what I did to him. How would he have told his family that I did not want him? The friends, relatives, colleagues … the embarrassment, the sorrow, the heartbreak. And yet, he had come when Dad had needed him. How difficult would that have been?
‘Purva…’ I said, looking up to see him still gazing at me. ‘I’m sorry, Purva,’ I said, looking down and trying to gulp away the tears that now threatened to spill over.
Purva looked away. I gently pulled his face towards mine, faltered for a minute when I saw his eyes all red, gathered myself and said, ‘I am sorry, Purva. I am very sorry.’
‘Go away, Kasturi,’ he said, turning away again.
‘I will, I promise I will, but just let me tell you a few things … one last time? Please?’ I begged.
Reluctantly Purva turned to face me.
‘I am sorry, Purva, for all the hurt and the pain. I was scared … very scared … and confused. I could have talked it out with you, Mum, Dad anyone … but I chose to do the one thing I should not have. I hurt you. But I love you. I love so much more than I thought I did … and it took all this for me to figure that out. You don’t hurt people you love… but I did and I am sorry.’
Purva shook his head, his face giving away nothing.
‘I wish I could go back to the past and change what I did. But I can’t. So I have no choice but to live with the consequences … I have no one to blame but myself.’
Purva stood still, looking down now.
‘Can you forgive me, Purva?’ I asked, my voice cracking now, afraid that I knew the answer.
‘Kasturi ... I … I can’t…’ he fumbled.
My heart sank. This was really happening.
‘I don’t think…’ Purva stammered, his face red now.
‘It’s okay,’ I said hurriedly, every cell in my body revolting at the idea of even hearing the full sentence. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ I said more to myself than to him and tried in vain to wipe away the tears that had my face all wet now.
‘It’s okay if you can’t get back with me. I don’t deserve someone like you,’ I said, in a trance. It had happened but I still could not believe it. Purva had said no. He did not want me back. Well done, Kasturi Shukla, very well done.
Purva said nothing. I brushed tears away with the back of my hand.
‘I will always love you,’ I said, one last time, and ran towards the door desperate to get out of the room.
31
I had barely touched the cool metal of the doorknob when a firm hand grabbed my wrist with such force that I winced in pain. Before I knew it, two strong arms had wrapped themselves around me. Tears had already blurred my vision and now grief clouded any semblance of logic and reason. All I wanted to do was curl up and cry. Cry my heart out for all that had happened.
And that is exactly what I did.
With strong arms wrapped around me and a broad chest against my face, I curled up in the warmth that surrounded me and cried bitterly and without stopping. A gentle hand caressed the back of my head which only made me cry harder.
‘Shhh, Kasturi,’ said Purva in a gentle voice into my ear.
I cried harder.
‘You will dehydrate yourself!’ said the alarmed doctor a few minutes later.
And I cried harder.
‘Okay, okay. Cry as much as you want,’ he said resignedly and clasped his hands tighter around my waist.
Time stood still. I don’t know how long we stayed like that. Not saying a word. Not moving. Not talking. My sobs broke the silence of the room like small waves crashing on the beach. I cried into his right shoulder and, when his shirt there was too wet for my comfort, I shifted to the other shoulder and cried harder than before. He simply held me without saying another word, without telling me to hush, without trying to stop me from it … just holding me, one with me and my grief.
When I was done, I withdrew a few inches so that I could see his face in the gentle glow of the lamp.
‘I am sorry, Purva,’ I said, between sobs.
Purva’s large black eyes stared at me for a few seconds before he spoke. ‘Do you have any idea how adorable you look when you cry like this?’ he said, gently brushing away some tears.
‘I am so sorry,’ I said, breaking into another fresh wave of tears.
‘How did you even think for a minute that I would ask you to leave?’
Another fresh wave of tears. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. How many times would I have to say this for me to feel okay?
‘I know you are,’ he said and took my face in his hands. With his fingers he brushed away strands of hair that were now wet with tears.
‘Purva!’ I exclaimed, gulping in some air and readying myself for another monologue to explain what had happened.
He placed a finger on my lips and, boring his dark eyes into mine, he whispered, ‘I love you, Kasturi, and that is all that matters.’
That shut me up and for some time I simply stared at him, taking in the simple beauty of his dark, intelligent eyes and the poetic curl of the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. Why had I not noticed them before? And why did each word from him sound so earnest, so sincere and so true? How did each word find its way to my heart, searing it with a pain that I found difficult to swallow?
‘I love you too, Purva,’ I said and felt such a powerful rush of love for him that my eyes pooled with tears again. I knew, in that moment, that there was something that needed to be done and now was the time to do it.
I disengaged myself from Purva, went down on one knee and, staring at the most astonished man I had ever set eyes on, asked the following simple and direct question:
‘Dr Purva Dixit, will you marry me?’ It was definitely my turn now.
‘What?’ he said, his eyes the size of saucepans.
‘Will you marry me?’ I repeated, crying and laughing at the same time now.
‘Wait a second!’ he said, bending low and inspecting the ring. ‘This is my ring!’
‘Yes.’
‘How did you get it?’
‘Vikram got it for me.’
‘That slime! He stole it from me?’
‘For me,’ I said, smiling sweetly.
‘You scoundrel!’ he growled and then laughed my favourite laugh, the one that started somewhere at the back of his throat and filled me with the purest kind of joy. A laugh that I had not heard in weeks.
However, practical matters took precedence.
‘Purva, you really need to say something! My knee is killing me!’ I groaned, laughing, tears still fresh in my eyes. ‘Purva!’ I wailed impatiently.
He laughed for what seemed like a good hour before giving me his hand.
‘Yes, I will, darling. Of course I will,’ he said softly, holding on to my hand to help me get up.
‘You will?’ I asked just to be sur
e as I put the ring on his finger
‘Kasturi,’ he said, looking earnestly into my eyes, ‘if there is one thing I have realized in the last few days, it is this – I cannot live a few days without you. How do you think I will live a lifetime without my daily dose of madness, you crazy, goofy and absolutely adorable woman?’
Delighted and beyond happy, I threw my arms around his neck. Yahooooo!’ I yelped, as I smacked one big, wet kiss on his lips.
Laughing, Purva wrestled out of the kiss and held me in a long, warm embrace. Almost making up for the distance of the last few weeks.
Words fail me here, they do. For it is so difficult to describe the simple joy of being able to love the man you love. Of being able to look into his eyes and find them filled with love for you. Of being able to kiss his lips and know that he loves you more than any other. Of looking for his eyes to see that they have already found you. Of extending him a hand to see that he is already offered you his…
To be in love with a man who loves you with all his heart, that is, without any doubt, the most wonderful thing in this world.
32
12 August 2013, 1.00 a.m.
Purva and I spent more than an hour together, simply talking … trying to catch up on the weeks we had spent apart. I curled up in his lap, sitting cheek-to-cheek, taking in the familiar smell of the disinfectant, refusing to let go of his hand even for a second.
Purva’s strong arms clasped my waist and pulled me closer to him, his eyes boring into mine. I let him pull me to himself, feeling snug and comfortable in his arms. Wrapped in them, I felt fully aware of how much he loved me. Purva traced my face with his finger, staring intently at every patch of skin that his fingers touched and then leant in for a kiss. He kissed me with an urgency that I was not familiar with, probably making up for the time apart. There was something about being kissed now that was in stark contrast with the kisses before our break-up. These seemed more urgent, more passionate, less doubtful. He kissed my eyes, brows and forehead and I let him, revelling in the love of a man I knew for sure I loved in return.
‘Your alphabet cakes were very cute,’ he said, looking indulgently at me. I was already revelling in the attention that Purva was lavishing on me. How I had missed this!
‘I know,’ I said coyly, shrugging my shoulders, ‘and the fish?’
Purva laughed out loud. ‘Silly Kasturi!’ he said, tousling my hair.
‘Did you solve the crossword?’ I asked.
‘Of course I did. It took me less than a minute.’
‘Was it then that you decided to forgive me?’ I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. What had finally worked?
‘You had me much before that,’ he said, smiling a slow smile.
‘When? The fish?’
He shook his head.
‘The cakes?’
He shook his head.
‘The very, very first cake?’
‘When I left Dad,’ he said and I noticed how he left out ‘your’, ‘in the hospital, he told me that you were already sorry about what had happened.’
‘Really?’ I asked, surprised.
‘Yes. He asked me if I still loved you.’
‘Oh!’ I said, taken aback. ‘And what did you say?’
Purva smiled and his eyes shone. ‘That I could never not love Kasturi,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. It took a moment for realization to dawn upon me. So Dad knew all this while! I had been on the phone with him pretty much every day, fretting about Purva, and he would tell me to be patient and to understand how much Purva meant to me.
‘Even when I do stupid things?’ I asked, wide-eyed.
‘Especially,’ he said, smiling, ‘when you do stupid things.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that’s the way it is.’
I smiled a wide, happy smile and promised myself that I would never again take for granted the love that I am lucky to get from Purva. It is pure and genuine and people die many deaths to have this in their lives.
‘So you were never really angry with me?’
‘For a bit I was. You know, when things seem to fall apart, I often try to let go of the idea of how I think things should be. Maybe there is a bigger picture I cannot see? I know you well enough, Kasturi, and the more I thought about you, the more convinced I felt of your love for me, though you seemed very unsure. So I decided to simply wait for you to figure things out in your head. If you did not love me, I could not force you to be with me, and if you realized that you did, I was right here, waiting for you.’
My mind inadvertently went back to the misery I had to go through during the time Purva had refused to talk to me and a chill ran through me. That was a part of my life I did not wish to relive.
‘Of course, I am sure, Purva … very sure of how I feel about you,’ I said, my heart melting like warm wax with love that really knew no bounds. ‘I love you so, so much.’ I added, spreading my hands wide to show him how much.
‘Silly girl!’ he laughed and kissed me on the forehead. We chatted more – about Dad’s surgery, about Pitajee and Anu.
When I glanced at my watch, it was already one. ‘Will you drop me home?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, of course,’ he said, getting up.
Hand in hand, we walked out of Purva’s office but stopped short when I opened the door. The sight that met my eyes stunned me into immobility.
Ravi Singh and Pretty Nurse were pacing the corridor, their body language giving away their anxiety. Behind them stood about twenty people, staring expectantly at the door that had just opened to reveal us.
‘They’re holding hands!’ someone shouted.
‘Oh yes! I win!’ someone else shouted
‘I win too! Five thousand rupees!’ another woman screamed.
‘What’s going on?’ Purva asked me, looking bewildered.
Ravi Singh and Pretty Nurse ran up to me and, after hesitating for less than a second, gave me a quick hug.
‘Kasturi Didi! I am so happy for you. Dr Dixit is the nicest man. You are very lucky!’ he gushed.
‘I know,’ I said, grinning as Purva continued to gape.
‘What is happening? Will you please explain?’ he mumbled. Someone came and shook his hand.
‘Thank you, Doctor Sa’ab,’ another man said. ‘I made three thousand rupees thanks to you.’
‘Err… okay… you are welcome,’ mumbled Purva.
I nodded my head absently, distracted, for I had just spotted two of my most favourite people in the world standing at the end of the corridor. Anu, laughing and crying at the same time, looked first at me and then at Purva. The sheer delight on her face made me well up.
And that is when, in a moment of rare clarity, the thought hit me. That a friend feels sad for you when bad things are happening is not a mark of true friendship. When unfortunate things happen to people we dislike, we find enough humanity in us to be sympathetic. Great things happening to one friend is the litmus test of the friendship of the other. Mostly, that is when the green-eyed monster raises its head and gobbles up the friendship. There is only one mark of a true friend. She feels genuine happiness for you when good things happen to you. Period.
‘Bhaiyya! Bhabhi!’ yelled Vikram, as he came bounding in, interrupting the little moment I was having, delight written all over his face.
‘You guys!’ Anu squealed, clapping her hands with glee. I stared, amazed at the transformation. The glum, sad Anu was nowhere to be seen. Purva grinned at her, a glorious grin that made my heart melt all over again, and bent low to give her a hug. Instead, Anu clasped his face in her hands and kissed him on his forehead. Pitajee’s eyes grew to the size of saucepans when he realized what had just happened.
‘I love you guys!’ Anu said, pulling both Purva and me into a big hug. Vikram snuggled in.
‘I love you guys too,’ mumbled Pitajee, staring at the four of us. ‘And I’m feeling very left out at the moment.’
‘You idiot!’ said Anu, yanking him into the gro
up hug and soon it was like old times.
Anu, Pitajee, Purva, Vikram and I. In a group hug, happy, laughing and crying at the same time, celebrating another beginning.
33
12 August 2013, 2.00 a.m.
‘What?’ shrieked Mum.
‘Yes!’ I shrieked back. I could easily imagine her sitting upright in the bed, rubbing her eyes.
‘Are you serious?’ she shrieked again.
‘Yes! I am!’ I shrieked in return.
‘Oh my god! I am so happy!’ she shrieked in response.
‘So am I!’ I shrieked.
Pause.
‘This means,’ she said, her voice low as realization dawned upon her, ‘I have a wedding to shop for ... errr ... I mean … plan again?’
‘Yes, Mum, I think you do,’ I said, grinning.
‘Oh ho,’ she mumbled to Dad, who was obviously trying to sleep. ‘Let me talk to my daughter. Go outside and sleep on the couch.’ And then to me. ‘Yes, Koochie, tell me how it all happened?’
Poor Dad, I thought, trying hard to stop the grin that seemed stuck on my face now.
14 August 2013.
It was not our first. Yet it felt like it. Purva always kissed very slowly as if, and I have said this before, the world around him ceased to matter. For the first time, the world around me blended into oblivion as well. Tender, gentle and always asking if I was okay. Endearing even when making out, I thought to myself with a wry smile.
‘Is Anu coming home tonight?’ he asked, his eyes dark with an intensity I had not known.
I tried to speak but nothing came out. I shook my head.
A small smile from Purva. With nimble hands, he unbotted the top button of my shirt and planted a tender kiss on my collarbone.
15 August 2013.
On the occasion of Independence Day, the readers of ‘Pearls of Wisdom’ are in for a treat. Purva has made a glorious debut on the blog under the rather inglorious pseudonym of ‘Dimple’. It makes more sense – if you can dare to call it that – when you read the title of the post announcing our wedding: ‘My Pimple to wed Her Dimple.’
Can This Be Love? Page 15