Right Here Right Now

by Nikita Singh

  ‘This . . . I can’t . . .’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything. Trust me, Kalindi Mishra, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Now, I’m stepping back, and I’ll pull your arms with me. Don’t worry; I’m holding you tight.’

  And he is. I am too. He walks back and since he’s holding both my hands, I’m pulled towards him too. Slowly, I am lying on the ladder, flat on my stomach. Harsh lets go of one of my hands and holds my upper arm instead. Once he has the hold secured, he lets go of my other hand and does the same. He pulls me forward, and this time, my legs are dragged forward too.

  Now that my upper body is off the ladder and in Harsh’s balcony, I feel a little confident. I push back on the step my feet are resting on, propelling my body forward. Another push and I’m all the way in. Harsh helps me climb off the ladder, and as soon as my feet touch solid ground, they all resume yelling at me and I resume crying.

  ‘What got into you?’ Ada cries.

  ‘What if something had happened?!’ Tisha exclaims.

  ‘That was, by far, the coolest thing I have ever witnessed and been a part of in my life,’ Bharat looks amused.

  ‘You are absolutely nuts,’ Harsh shakes his head.

  My knees give up and I sit down on the floor in relief. I’m alive. Harsh saved my life. He sits down with me and holds me while I cry.

  ‘We’re coming,’ Tisha says and they all get into my room and shut the door.

  Harsh and I are alone. I sniffle as I blurt out everything that has been bothering me. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you were just trying to help me. But when you told me, it was so out of the blue. I was completely unprepared for it and I know it was good news, but I was struck with this overwhelming sense of personal violation, and I couldn’t see past it.’

  ‘It’s okay. It really is,’ Harsh begins. ‘You don’t have to—’

  ‘No, I do. I have to explain. When you told me you met Dr Sahani . . . I was already dealing with a lot of friend-issues. I didn’t know who I could trust. But I trusted you. And you went behind my back. You had your reasons and your intentions were great, but, right then, all I could feel was this crushing sense of betrayal. I was relieved at the news, I was. But I still lashed out at you and said so many horrible things to you. I was hurt and I just wanted to hurt back . . .’

  ‘You didn’t mean it?’ Harsh asks softly. His voice is shaking too, and I look up at him to see tears in his eyes.

  ‘No! No, no, no, never. I could never . . . I didn’t mean any of them.’

  He nods, pursing his lips. Like I do when I’m trying desperately not to cry.

  I feel my heart sinking. I can’t see him like this. I can’t see him so hurt. I can’t be the reason for his pain. I rest my forehead against his and whisper, ‘I love you, Harsh.’

  He pulls back to look at me, as if to confirm what I said.

  ‘Yes, I do. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I love you. I know I can be really mean, and I said some really hurtful things to you, but I didn’t mean any of them. I just love the way you are. I love everything about you. I can’t believe how much I love you. Hell, I can’t believe one person can love another person as much as I love you.’

  The perfectly romantic moment is ruined by a knock on the door of Harsh’s room. ‘Open up!’ Tisha yells from the other side.

  ‘Darn,’ I mutter. I start getting up, but Harsh pulls me down on the floor again.

  ‘I love you too, Kalindi Mishra,’ he says softly into my ears.

  AS IF THEY WEREN’T THE MOST WARM AND BEAUTIFUL WORDS EVER SPOKEN. AS IF THEY DID NOT MAKE ME WANT TO DIE AND LIVE AT THE SAME TIME. AS IF IT WAS NO BIG DEAL. I LOVE YOU, KALINDI MISHRA. LIKE THE WORDS WOULD NOT COMPLETELY TRANSFORM MY LIFE. AS IF THOSE BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL WORDS WOULD NOT CHANGE THE MEANING OF THE WORD ‘LOVE’ FOR ME.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Hell, yeah! No girl has ever walked and then crawled across a ladder placed horizontally seventy feet off the ground for me!’ His wide, goofy grin is back. My life is complete.

  The knocking on the door gets more impatient and we sigh.

  ‘I’ll get that,’ Harsh says and kisses me on the cheek while getting up. And then walks to the door like the KISS NEVER HAPPENED. BUT IT DID. IT BURNED A HOLE IN MY CHEEK.

  I was midway getting up when he had slid the kiss in. I sit back down and just stay there, absorbing what happened. Just for like 2.35 seconds, after which I am smothered by hugs and kisses as Ada and Tisha assault me, while Bharat and Harsh stand grinning.

  Epilogue

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  ‘Just remember the values of individual elements, and you’ll be fine. Here, revise this table,’ Sarabjeet passes me a notebook.

  I go through the periodic table with hundred per cent concentration. Actually, more like ninety per cent. Ten per cent of my attention is always on Harsh, who is sitting to my right, looking out of the window of the bus, like we do not have a chemistry quarterly exam in less than an hour.

  He catches me looking at him and winks at me before turning his attention back to the world outside school bus number S-21.

  Once we reach school, Michael joins us and Sarabjeet and Michael start revising the course beginning to end at dizzying speed. They invite me to join in, but I feel like my head is going to explode, so I shut all the books and just try to breathe. Outside, I see Ada, Bharat, Tisha and Sameer, all immersed in the same book. I walk over to them.

  ‘Hey,’ I say.

  ‘Hi! Are you done revising? I think I’m going to die,’ Tisha includes me in her pre-exam morning drama.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ Ada says. ‘I’m certainly going to flunk.’

  ‘Shhh! Reading here,’ Bharat says, pointing at the book he’s reading from. Then he looks at me and shakes his head, saying, ‘Women.’

  I roll my eyes.

  Sameer shuts down his notebook and says, ‘I’m done. Only God can save me now.’

  ‘All the luck,’ I say.

  ‘Hey guys,’ Harsh walks to us and says.

  There’s a chorus of one hey, one hi, one what’s up and one how’s it going bro?

  ‘All set?’ he asks me.

  ‘Yeah. Could you go over chelation for me once?’ I ask. As we walk towards our exam hall, Harsh explains it to me once again.

  Before we know it, the bell rings and we have to rush in. Everybody wishes everyone else good luck and we all go to our allotted exam halls. Thankfully, Harsh and I are in the same room.

  We take our seats and wait for the question paper to be distributed. I write my roll number on the answer sheet and think about how thankful I am to Sarabjeet and Michael for helping me study. I couldn’t have made it to even this point without them.

  In the past three months, I’ve settled in my own life better. My memory isn’t back (no surprises there) but I now have a lot of friends. I mostly hang out with Harsh and Sarabjeet and Michael, but I’ve been friends with my old friends too. Turns out, Tisha was only mean to me because I was dating the boy she loved. Now she’s still mean, just that her meanness is not directed at me.

  Every day I get to know Harsh better, I fall more in love with him. He is my best friend, my teacher, my partner in crime, my confidant and just the best guy ever. He makes me laugh, and I feel like I can talk to him about just about anything under the sun.

  My parents are extremely happy about me having so many good friends and being so brave and getting my life back on track. But Mum likes to complain about how she misses me lying in my bed all day, and how I don’t have much time for her anymore. We didn’t tell my parents about the ladder incident. I do not wish to be grounded and bound in restraints for life.

  The question papers are distributed and as soon as I’m done scanning through mine, I look over at Harsh.

  He mouths, ‘Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ I gesture back.

  He grins his goofy grin and turns back to his question paper and so do I.

  He is the be
st thing that has happened to me in all the four months and twenty-one days of my post-accident life. There have been no more nightmares. And I am no longer confused about what I like and what I don’t. I don’t sit around waiting for my lost years to come back; instead, I have built a new life. I sometimes do wonder about how the accident really happened, but I know I will most probably never know. Dad says that is life. You simply cannot get answers to everything on order.

  I don’t have a past. I look at Harsh. The present is perfect. And I look forward to the future.

  Thank you!

  After the end of every book, I am faced with the task of thanking people who were with me when I wrote it, who helped me—either by actually helping me or by just always being there by my side, looking over me (figuratively, not literally; because that would be creepy). And I start thinking of names, mentally make a list, but by the time I jot down the names, I forget tonnes of people and eventually take a lot of heat for that. So I’ll mention a lot of names this time around.

  Beginning with my editors at Penguin, who were the first (and only, till now) readers of my manuscript—Vaishali Mathur and Ameya Nagarajan. From the initial draft to the final, your confidence in me and inputs on the manuscript have been invaluable. The rest of the amazing team at Penguin, who work so hard on taking care of every aspect of every book.

  My friends are in a habit of over analysing the sequence in which their names are listed in the acknowledgements, and then grilling me about it. My remedy—alphabetical order. Abhay Mishra, Akansha Sharma, Ankit Fadia, Ankit Mittal, Ankit Rai, Apaar Julka, Ashay Shukla, Avantika Mohan, Deepika Rathore, Durjoy Datta, Hina Tekchandani, Mridula Tripathi, Naman Kapur, Nidhi Sharma, Orvana Ghai, Pratham Jain, Preeti Shenoy, Rajat Bhasin, Ravi Subramanian, Ravinder Singh, Sachin Garg and Viyali Michael. Thanks, you guys, for being a part of my world.

  My cousins, who are closer to me than my closest friends. Also in alphabetical order. Abhimanyu Singh, Kumar Abhinav, Pooja Singh, Prishita Singh, Shaina Singh, Shreela Singh, Tushar Deep, Vishal Kumar. And the kids—Mili, Mohit, Mona, Shy, Sumi and Tutu. Biggest, tightest of hugs to each one of you.

  Of course, my parents, for always supporting me no matter what. I know it’s the most clichéd statement ever, but it’s the truest too! My brother, Nishant Malay. Everybody back at Ranchi. My entire family has been my biggest strength.

  My readers, and people I’m connected with on various social networking websites. I can never find enough words to express my gratitude towards you. You guys are there when nobody else is. You are my strength, my weakness, my inspiration and motivation to continue writing. I couldn’t ask for more.

  Guruji—Sri Sri Paramhansa Yogananda—whose book ‘Man’s Eternal Quest’ has taught me more than anything else I have ever experienced.

  THE BEGINNING

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  PENGUIN BOOKS

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  Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

  This collection published 2014

  Copyright © Nikita Singh 2014

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Jacket images © Parag Chitale

  ISBN: 978-0-143-42307-2

  This digital edition published in 2018.

  e-ISBN: 978-9-351-18644-1

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.