it’s better if I get used to it

Sheetal just continued to glare at me as if I was a species of chimpanzees that somehow had managed to evolve into a human.

“Virat,” she said turning to her boyfriend who was sitting next to her but hadn’t taken part in the conversation yet. “Tell your roomie he’s an idiot.”

Virat looked lost in his thoughts. As if he was doing some serious deep thinking. “You ever wonder,” Virat said aloud after a while, “why Sachin Tendulkar keeps getting out in the 90’s.”

Sheetal looked as if she had just been hit by a truck. I started laughing. “What?” Sheetal asked after a while.

“I mean Sachin Tendulkar is regarded as the world’s greatest batsman,” Virat continued, “he strikes awe in opposition bowlers yet somehow when it comes to the nervous 90’s…”


“I know Virat,” Sheetal said cutting her off. “Are you even listening to us?”

“Oh-that whole ‘Rahul loves Anjali but is too gutless to tell her’ thing?”

“Yeah,” Sheetal said as I glared at Virat for calling me gutless.

“Yeah, I got bored after 5 minutes,” Virat said casually.

It was my time to say “What?”

“Exactly, you know,” Virat said, “what on earth is wrong with Sachin? I mean why can’t he just be the same batsman when he’s in the 90’s…”

“Virat,” sheetal said looking exasperated, “we are kind of discussing something important here.”

Virat looked as if he was hurt. “So am I,” he answered haughtily. “We are talking about Sachin Tendulkar here-the national icon, a demi-God…”

“Virat,” Sheetal shouted. “We know!”

Virat looked shocked as if he had no idea why he was being shouted upon like that. “You don’t have to yell you know?”

“Aaaarrrggghhhh,” Sheetal screamed. “Virat-you are so damn hopeless.”

My stomach was beginning to pain with laughter. Virat and Sheetal could crack you up any time, any moment. They were like an entertainment duo doing stand up comedy. And all for free.



“Oh sure-laugh all you want,” Sheetal said glaring at me.

“Now what did I do?” I said not knowing why she was getting angry at me.”

Mom and dad’s entry saved me from getting an outburst by Sheetal. She seemed all wound up, her nose flared and ready to spit fire. Thank God for mom and dad. Seeing the looks of confusion and condemnation on our faces, my dad reacted, “Wow! Looks like someone just died in here.”

I smiled. “What happened?” my mom asked. “Seems like there was a bit of stand off here.”

“Nothing aunty,” Sheetal answered. “I just realized that my best friend’s an idiot and my boy friend’s a bigger idiot.”

I and Virat looked at each other with ‘what does she think of herself?’ looks at her remark of us being idiots. I almost felt like laughing at Virat and saying, ‘she called you a bigger idiot.’ Yet somehow I contained myself

“Well-there’s nothing really new in that, is there?” my mom remarked.

“Thanks mom,” I said sarcastically.

Mom just smiled. “So what made you realize that they were idiots?” my mom asked turning back to Sheetal.

“Well-you have my boyfriend here who well-lets just leave him shall we?” Sheetal said.

Virat looked as if a thousand bricks had landed on him. He continued to glare angrily at Sheetal. I gave a half-laugh.

“On the other hand we have Rahul Agrawal, your son,” Sheetal said pointing towards me.

“Now let’s see-where should we begin. Oh yeah, Virat takes this beautiful girl called Anjali out on a casual date. There while walking back some goons pass comments on our lovely Anjali. And despite Anjali’s repeated pleadings to just ignore those goons, our hero Rahul can’t take it anymore after a point and beats them up. But the lady isn’t impressed. She’s angry that Rahul stooped to the level of those goons. She walks out on him and our Rahul, hurting from what Anjali just told him, gets hit on a bottle by the head. Now it’s our Anjali’s turn to feel guilty. She takes Rahul to hospital and as our dear Rahul lies unconscious for the next 48 hours, Anjali takes care of him and is unable to sleep-haunted by the sight of an unconscious Rahul. And after all this, after all the sobbing and the melodrama, Rahul announces that he and Anjali are ‘just friends.’ Jeez-this is worse than a hindi movie.” 

Sheetal finally finished her narration of the story. My mom was just waiting to burst out laughing. My dad was just staring at Sheetal blank-eyed. Virat had his mouth open. And I was just staring onto the ground trying to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

“You know, it’s not really like that,” I told Sheetal.

“It’s not?” Sheetal queried. “Then please, please tell me how it is.”

“I am afraid,” I finally admitted.

“Afraid of what?” Sheetal asked.

“Of hurting her,” I answered.

“Come again?”

“Look, that night I hurt her. For the first time,” I said, “and the look on her face, her tears-you have no idea how I felt. You had no idea how much it was hurting me to see her like that. And if I ever were to do that again, if I ever were to be the reason again for her crying, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. And that’s why I didn’t tell her that I lover. For if we get into a relationship and I do something to hurt her, then I won’t be able to forgive myself. That’s why I said I am not ready for a relationship with her just yet.” 

Sheetal didn’t answer. Probably she understood what I meant. Then mom came up to me and said, “you ever wondered that by not telling her you might be hurting her as well? Because as far as we know, she’s waiting for you. She knows just as you know, what the truth is, yet the fact that you wouldn’t admit it-that might be hurting her. Because she doesn’t know what you just said. And she might be thinking that there might be another reason why you are afraid. You ever thought about that?”

“I did,” I replied. “But I believe that she’s more capable of handling the fact that there’s something holding me back that me hurting her again by some other action of mine when we are in a relationship.”

My mom slowly roved her hand on my head and smiled. “You do what you think is best beta. There’s no point of hurrying into a relationship if you don’t think you are ready. So take your time.”

“Thanks mom,” I said smiling at her. 

“You know, I always wondered when I would get to see this day,” Sheetal said.

“Which day?” I asked.

“You know, Rahul Agarwal, getting all so candid and emotional about a girl,” she said smiling.

“Hey,” my mom replied, “my son isn’t that bad.”

Sheetal looked at mom and giving a little smile said, “We know that aunty. That’s why I said I always wondered when I would get too see this day and not if I would ever get too see this day. I always knew this day would come, just wasn’t sure when.”

She then walked over to me and giving me a small peck on the cheek said, “I am really glad that this day has come.”

“Me too,” I said giving her a small smile.

“Heyyyyy,” Virat drawled from the corner. We turned towards him. “You know,” he said looking at Sheetal, “you seem to be giving more pecks to Rahul than me,” Virat said.

We burst out laughing. Trust Virat to light up the atmosphere with just one statement.

“Ooooohhhh,” Sheetal said. “My chona is feeling left out, is he?” Her voice was became extremely child like as if Virat was a 5 year old kid who was upset and Sheetal was trying to make him smile.

“A bit,” Virat said looking down on the ground.

“Ooooohhhhh,” Sheetal said again in that patronizing tone “Let me give my chona a peck.”

Sheetal went over to Virat and pecked him on the lips. Virat smiled for a bit and then embarrassingly started looking at the ground rubbing his feet on it.

“Happy?” Sheetal asked.

“Yes,” he said still looking on the ground.

The door then opened and Anjali entered with a polythin packet in her hands. The polythin had plastic containers in it so I guessed there was food in them. “Lunch has arrived,” she announced on entering.

“For whom?” my dad asked surprised.

“For the patient,” Anjali replied laying the polythin on the table. I just started at her in disbelief. She had gone out to pack lunch for me.

“You didn’t go to college?” I asked

“College can wait,” she said opening the polythin and laying the containers on the table. “Besides, it’s not like I am going to fail or anything by bunking one day of lectures.”

I smiled. Anjali hardly bunked lectures and she had tried to stop me from bunking lectures as well. So for her to bunk an entire day of college, I knew it was a big thing.

“What did you get?” I asked now that the topic of why she had bunked college was over.

“Hmmm…..your favorite- undhiyu with butter naan,” she said winking at me.

Somewhere in the background Sheetal and Virat were laughing their heads off. I am sure they found this whole ‘girl bringing food for the boy’ thing very cheesy. I must admit I found it a bit cheesy too and was a little embarrassed especially with those 2 idiots laughing at the back but at the same time I was so happy she had made this sweet gesture.

I glared at virat angrily. Virat continued laughing and mouthed silently, imitating Anjali, “your favourtie-undhiyu and butter naan.” Sheetal by his said went into bouts of laughter as if she didn’t know how to contain herself. Those two were so dead.

Anjali put 3 spoonful of the undhiyu onto a plate and laid out one naan by the side of the plate and handed it over to me. I raised my hand and said, “ummm….these needles are not going to let me eat by myself you know.” As soon as I said this, my parents, Virat and Sheetal all started looking at each other as if thinking what to do next. Somehow I didn’t like the way they were looking at each other.

“Mom!” I said.

“Yes beta.”

“Ummm….can’t eat by myself,” I replied implying that she would have to feed me today.

Anjali turned back and held out the plate for mom. Mom looked at Anjali for a while and then said, ‘ummm…actually I have to go talk to the doctor about Rahul’s test results.”

“Now?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah-he told me to come around this time,” she said and hurriedly walked out of the door. Once my mom left and I knew exactly what was going to happen. I knew why all of them were looking at each other when I said I can’t eat with my hands. ‘Evil people,’ I thought to myself. My own family and friends plotting against me.

So it was no surprise that when I turned towards dad, my dad just said, “I have to go get some medicines from the pharmacy” and immediately walked out.

Anjali turned back towards me and started smiling. She knew what was going on. And she didn’t mind. I just looked down on the ground embarrassed. But Anjali was somehow enjoying this. As if she wanted to play along. She now turned towards Sheetal just to see what excuse she would give. “Ummm…” sheetal said trying to think up an execuse, “I have class now,” she said and grabbing her back she headed for the exit as well. Anjali just kept smiling and didn’t say anything. This was getting more and more embarrassing for me. If they had actually planned to do this, then the least they could have done is come up with better excuses. Their excuses were so lame, Anjali could see right through them and hence putting me in an highly embarrassing situation. She didn’t even look at Virat. Virat all by himself came up to me and keeping a hand on my shoulders said, “I would love to feed you with my own hands buddy but I don’t want people to think that we are gay room mates.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as Virat followed Anjali out of the door.

Anjali again smiled at me. I tried meeting her eyes but I was too embarrassed to do that. ‘Damn my parents and friends,’ I said to myself.

“Looks like I’ll have to feed you know,” she said as if she didn’t know anything about what was happening here.

“Sorry,” was all I managed to say.

“For what?” she said. “Besides, I think it’s better if I get used to it.”

Was that a hint or was that a hint? What did she mean when she said it’s better if she gets used to it. Was she implying something by saying that or was that just another casual statement that she had said. It was hardly just another random statement that she had said but then she had said it so casually that I couldn’t be sure how serious she exactly was. She broke a piece of the naan and dipping it into the undhiyu; she brought it to my mouth and fed me. While taking a bite of that butter chicken I almost felt like kissing her hands. But once again I resisted. “Thanks,” I said after having my 1st bite. “As I said,” she said breaking another piece of the naan, “it’s better if I get used to it.”

This was definitely a hint. If ever there was a hint then that was one. My immediate impulse was to smile but I didn’t dare say anything else for I didn’t want to broach that topic again.

“You know,” she said after I had my 6th bite, “Virat’s excuse was the best. At least it was genuine.”

“You can try and stop embarrassing me you know,” I said.

“Oh come on,” she said giving me another bite of the undhiyu  and naan, “you know how much I love embarrassing you. I find it quite irresistible.”

“I am sure you do,” I said swallowing the food.

“Besides,” she said breaking a piece from the second naan now, “I thought it was kinda cute.”

“Cute?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah-I mean come to think of it, it was so filmy. But then I am a sucker for romantic clichés.”

“I know that,” I said once again avoiding the conversation from veering off into the romantic angle.

After that neither of us said anything. I forgot that how embarrassing this situation was. All I remembered was that there was this girl in front of me who somehow, despite everything that had happened and despite directly seeing through the prank set up by my parents and friends, had still played along. She didn’t mind feeding me with her own and hands and had actually said that it’s better if she gets used to it. At that point of time, as she gave me every bite of that undhiyu , my heard would tell me to tell her everything. Tell her how I felt and how much I loved her. But my mind didn’t agree. And I resisted. Even though our love couldn’t be more obvious. Yet somehow we continued to act as if this was a completely platonic relationship. I wondered for how long we could go on acting like this. For how long was she going to wait for me?

When I had almost finished the second naan, Virat and Sheetal entered the room laughing uproariously. A nurse looked in to see where the commotion was coming from. She glared at Virat and Sheetal and both became silent immediately.

“Didn’t you have class?” I asked Sheetal.

“Oh yeah,” Sheetal said fumbling as she had forgotten her own excuse. “Yeah… but it got cancelled,” she finally managed to say.

“Hmmm….” I said pretending though it was obvious I knew it was a lie.

“That’s a cute sight,” she commented a few moments later.

“What?” I asked.

“This,” she said indicating towards Anjali feeding me. I almost smiled out of embarrassment once again.

Anjali didn’t dare look back at Sheetal. And in all this Sheetal just smiled wickedly at me. ‘Evil female,’ I thought to myself.

“Hey,” Virat said popping in again. He was looking at Sheetal. “What?” Sheetal asked responding to his strange stare.

“How come you never feed me?” Virat asked.

I looked at Anjali and smiled. She smiled back at me. I was sure Sheetal would have a very good reply to this query of Virat.

“Because,” she said looking straight at Virat, “you never get hit on the head by a bottle.”

Virat looked crestfallen as I and Anjali laughed at Sheetal’s reply. Anjali gave me the glass of water to drink and got up to wash her hands. As she was leaving, I mustered up all the strength my hand could give me and held her wrist. She turned back to look at me, not even trying to free her wrist. “Thanks,” I said looking into her eyes. She smiled. “I was just doing my duty,” she said. Our eyes met again and somewhere we could hear music playing in the background. On its own. I knew what she meant but I didn’t probe any further. The confession will have to wait. For the time being these small romantic gestures will have to do. I just hoped that I wouldn’t be too late. I let her wrists go. She continued standing there for a few seconds, without moving and just looking into my eyes. She then slowly moved away and walked to the corner of the room where the wash basin was. Sheetal came up to me and sat by my bed side. “You really love her, don’t you?” she asked.

I looked at Sheetal wondering what reply to give. Then easing myself into the bed and looking across at the figure of Anjali washing her hands I said, “I think you already know.”

I felt Anjali almost turn as if she had heard what I had said but then she continued washing her hands without looking back. Yet there was no doubt she had made a sudden movement. She knew-just as I did. And yet neither of us would admit it.

I was discharged from the hospital a week later, still in one piece and all hearty and fine. My parents left the same day, going back to their normal lives and as I went to drop them off at the airport,  Anjali insisted on coming along. I didn’t argue much for really what was there to argue about. As they went in for the check-in counter, my parents had their usual words of advice and dad insisted on me staying away from alcoholics of any sorts. Anjali said she would take care of that and somewhere behind my dad, my mom gave a brief smile. As we said our final good byes, Anjali touched their feet to seek their blessings prompting mom to give me one final piece of advice-‘Don’t let her go.’ I smiled and said I won’t.

Back in Manipal, it was time to catch up with the events of the one week that I had missed. Exams were not far away now and I had a lot of catching up to do in the studies department. Gathering notes from classmates, running around the department teachers to ask them on what I had missed in that one week, life was getting hectic this semester even before I had planned it to be. But before all this, before the madness of the exams began and before all of us 3rd year students got into the final battle to raise our GPA’ to be worthy enough for good placements, there was one very important assignment left. One that had me all confused and my mind completely boggled up. It was Anjali’s birthday next week and I had no idea of what I was going to do

“What are you lost about?” Sheetal asked while we were standing at frustu one day.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“Anjali’s birthday,” Virat promptly answered Sheetal while chewing on a packet of Lays.... 

“What?” he asked as I glared at him for bringing the topic up. “Oh come on,” he said, “it’s all over your notebooks and sheets on which you are supposed to do your assignment-Anjali’s birthday...10th Feb -in big black bold letters too.”

“Shut up,” I told Virat haughtily.

“Hmmm….” Sheetal said. “Anjali’s birthday huh?”

“You don’t have to hmmm about it,” I told her.

She laughed. “Yeah, you are right. What’s bothering you about it anyways?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I want to make that day the best day of her life-just not sure how.”.... continued

Anjali the name you were calling out while you were unconscious for 48 hours

I opened my eyes in a hazy hospital room a few days later. At first everything seemed a blur. There were white walls around me and sunlight streaked from a window far across the room with its curtains opened. I saw my mom sitting next to me on a chair watching me fondly. I felt her hand on my forehead, slowly ruffling my hair and I knew I would be alright. As I opened my eyes and looked at her, she smiled at me. “Hey sunshine,” she said, that radiant face looking ever so beautiful. “Hey,” I managed to mutter.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I have seen better days,” I replied and she smiled.

“How long has it been?” I asked her after a while when I felt I had enough strength to talk.

The reply came from a man standing at the far side of the wall, staring at me intensely. “Two days actually,” my dad said.

I looked at my dad, looking like he was worried I would never be able to walk again. Moms are usually the one who worry more about their kids, but when the kid actually get hurts, dads always fear for the worst. Law of nature, I guess.

“Hello to you too dad,” I said joking.

To see my mom and dad in the same room was a bit of a rarity for me. Not that they despised each other. On the few occasions that they had met after the divorce, they had acted cordially and had maintained their friendship, yet there are some things which refuse to go away. Divorce was one of them. So they always tried to avoid each other, unless it was a necessity and most of the times that necessity had turned out to be me. So it did this time as well. And in a way I didn’t mind that glass shattering on me anymore as I got to see my parents together. There are some things that are more priceless than a bottle breaking on your head. This was one of them.

“Hey son,” my dad said coming over. “You had us worried you know.”

“Yeah well,” I replied in jest. “I wouldn’t be your son if I didn’t, would I?”

Dad smiled. “Yeah, but just try avoiding drunken lunatics with vodka bottles in their hand please?”

“I will consider it,” I replied.

Mom and dad laughed and to see them laughing together, it brought me a happiness that I couldn’t even describe. I didn’t even remember the last time I had seen them laugh together. I loved them and I knew they loved me and I didn’t have even one complaint against them as parents. They had always looked out for me, always wanted what’s best for me and despite their divorce had ensured that their personal lives didn’t bring any shortcomings in their responsibility as my parents. Yet a part of me had always wondered that if that divorce wouldn’t have happened, then maybe, just maybe, life could have even more better than it was.


“So when did you guys get here?” I asked.

“A few hours after you were admitted here,” dad answered. “Your mom got a call saying you had been in some sort of accident and had head injuries. Your mom called me and we immediately flew down here.”

“Accident?” I asked. “These hospital guys really fear the worst, don’t they?”
“It’s good that they do,” my mom answered. “We really were worried sick.”

“I am alright mom,” I said trying to appease her.

“Yeah, I know,” she said smiling and stroking my forehead. “You take rest now. I will go talk to the doctors about your tests.”
Mom got up from the chair and began to leave. “Mom,” I called her as she was about to leave the room. She turned back. “Can you cover me with your blanket of love just this once?”

I could see the tears in my mom’s eyes as I said this. She was smiling, remembering those days of my childhood as I was doing now. “Of course sweety,” she said. She came over to me and with a stroke of her hand, slowly covered me with and invisible blanker. I held that invisible blanket close to my body. A few feet away my dad’s eyes were welling up too as he saw the scene. After she covered me with the blanket, my mom kissed me on the forehead. ‘I love you,” she sad. “Love you too mom,” I replied and she left the room

Dad came up and sat down on the chair. He looked at me as if wondering how close he had come to loosing me. For a few moments I just smiled at him trying to comfort him that I was indeed alright. He gratefully didn’t say anything about how foolish I had been. Such talks could be saved for later.

“So Anjali huh?” he asked me out of nowhere.

“Huh?” I said in complete surprise. I had no idea exactly what he was referring to. Anjali as in Anjali the girl I loved or Anjali as in the girl who probably brought me here. To be on the safer side I acted as if I had no idea what he was talking about. Act ignorant when you are not sure how much exactly your dad does know about your love life. “Anjali what?” I asked. I couldn’t say Anjali who because then that would be just giving into him. I knew an Anjali, he would definitely have come to know about that so there was no way I was going to act as if I had never even heard of this girl.

“I am presuming that was the name you were calling out while you were unconscious for 48 hours,” my dad said with an evil grin on his face.

There. Caught red handed by your own dad. And that too when you were unconscious. ‘Good work Rahul,’ I thought.

I tried to act innocent all over again by having a blank expression on my face but then he kept staring at me waiting for response and I just couldn’t help but give him a sheepish smile admitting the fact that ‘yes-I had been caught.’ He hit me on the head slightly as he smiled. “Ouch!” I said acting as if his hitting me on the head had hurt me. “Yeah, try playing the hero, don’t you?” he said smiling.

“So where is she?” I asked him after a while.

“Where is who?” he asked.

“Anjali,” I said referring to the obvious.

“Anjali who?” dad asked acting innocent.

“Daaaaaddddd,” I said coyly. Having your dad tease you about the girl you loved could get embarrassing.

“Alright, alright,” dad finally said.

“Where is she?” I asked again.

“Who? Anjali?” dad teased me again.

“Yes dad,” I said now getting frustrated.

“Oh-we sent her back,” dad said matter of factly.

“Back?”I asked

“Yeah-the girl hadn’t slept in 48 hours, insisted on staying here with you. But today morning we forced her to go back and take some rest. She really cares about you, you know.”

“I know,” I said slowly. “So she hadn’t slept in 48 hours?”

Dad smiled. “No, she hadn’t. Said she couldn’t sleep somehow. At least that’s what Sheetal told us. I guess she couldn’t disclose the reasons to us personally.”

“Yeah,” I said wondering how Anjali was right now. All I could think of was about seeing her again.

“Whom are you two gossiping about?” My mom questioned announcing her entry back into the room.

I and my dad looked at each other. I signaled to him to not tell mom anything now. But dad being dad promptly answered, “Oh nothing-just guy talk.”

“Ahhhh,” mom said. “And this guy talk wouldn’t be about a certain Anjali-now would it?”

My dad gave me that evil grin again. How I hated my dad!!

My mom looked at me with introspecting eyes and I tried to avoid her gaze as much as possible. Having both your mom and dad looking at you asking you about a certain girl in your life can be the most embarrassing thing in the world. She continued looking at me and I continued avoiding her until I couldn’t take it anymore and burst out, “Would you stop looking at me like that?”

My mom and dad both started laughing. “I hate you guys,” I said. More laughter followed and I tried to cover my face with the blanket as much as possible. I had never been in a more embarrassing situation than this.

“I guess our son has indeed grown up,” my dad said as if officially announcing my arrival into adulthood. “Thanks dad,” I muttered. “You know, she is a sweet girl,” my mom said.

“And beautiful,” my dad added.

Fantastic. So now my mom and dad were discussing her pros and cons in front of me. If they thought they were doing me a favor, they weren’t. I just wished I could find a hole somewhere and hide in it. Didn’t they get it that they were just embarrassing me further? Unless they were doing it on purpose. Getting back at me for all the naughty things that I did when I was a kid. Evil people.

“When she met me the first time,” my mom continued, “she actually touched my feet. That was very sweet of her. Not many girls do that nowadays.”

Somewhere in all this embarrassment I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Anjali touching my mom’s feet when she saw her the first time. It was like I was falling in love with her all over again.

“Yeah,” my dad said looking away from me and acting as if he was having a serious conversation with mom about my grades. “Her simplicity is stunning.”

“I have a feeling she would make a wonderful daughter in law,” he added just for effect.

Ok. That was it. I wasn’t having any more talks about their prospective daughter in law in front of me. This was embarrassing enough.

“Ok-dad, and mom, you really need to stop this right now,” I said.

“Why?” me dad asked looking as if I had snatched a candy from him. “You don’t want us talking about our future daughter in law?”

“Ok-first of all dad, she isn’t your daughter in law. And second of all-she isn’t your daughter in law.”

Dad and mom laughed and I once again wish the world would just explode around me. At the same time we heard a commotion outside the door. It was as if a guy was just barging his way into the hospital and throwing everything that came in his way. I had a feeling as to who it was but I wished I was wrong. My worst fears were confirmed when the door of my room was barged open and outside stood Virat Mathur. ‘Oh brother!’ I thought to myself as my parents looked as if their worst nightmare had come true. I didn’t blame them. Behind him came a running Sheetal who had obviously been unable to prevent Virat from causing damages. But I had a feeling that the damages had just begun.

“Rahhhhuuuuuuuuullllllllll,” Virat cried out as he laid his eyes on me. I tried my best to act as if I didn’t know him.

“Rahhhhuuuuuuuuullllll,” he cried again as he came rushing towards me and held me in his arms like he was the mother of a lost 5 year old kid who had just reached home after 2 days. I looked on helplessly at Sheetal looking for some sort of help. Sheetal just shrugged her shoulders and acted as if this time she couldn’t just help it.

Rahuuuuuulllllllllllllllll,” Virat cried again. Trust Virat to act as if he was auditioning for a role in a Yash Chopra movie. “It’s ok Virat,” I finally said when I couldn’t take it anymore. “I am alright.”

But Virat wasn’t done crying. “Rahuuuuuuuuullllll,” he cried once more. “My friend, my room mate, you are alive. I am so glad you are alive. I was so worried about you. I came running as soon as I heard you regained consciousness.”

“Oh!” I said. “And who was that wonderful soul who told you I regained consciousness?” Whoever it was, he wasn’t going to be alive after today.

“Your mom, she messaged me-the wonderful soul that she is.” I glared at mom. Mom just responded by shrugging her shoulders supposedly suggesting ‘how did I know!’ “As soon as I got the sms, I rushed out of the classroom,” Virat continued to howl.

“You left a class?” I asked.

“Yup,” Virat grinned.

“In front of the prof?”

“Yup,” Virat continued to grin.

“How?” I asked. Why did that stupid prof ever let him out? Couldn’t he just hold Virat back till I had recuperated fully?

Virat’s grin grew even bigger. Then he very smugly said, “I told the prof I had a bladder problem. Once I said that, he didn’t really have an option, did he?” Oh how I would love to wipe that smirk off Virat’s face. But even I had to give him credit for his excuse. Leaky bladders aren’t something you can really argue against. And if you argue too much then that bladder might indeed leak before you can reach a decision. And Virat deserved credit for that. ‘Smart ass,’ I thought to myself.

“And how much damage did you cause to the hospital properties while coming here?” I asked trying my best to stop him from over reacting again.

“Oh-that,” Virat said. “Stupid hospital people. They told me not to get over excited, that this is a hospital. And can you blame me for getting over excited. My best friend had just returned from the jaws of death and they were asking to keep quiet. Idiots.”

“Jaws of death?” I queried. “Virat, it wasn’t like I had been run over by a truck or something.”

Virat looked at me as if he didn’t understand me. Then he suddenly started sniffing again. I knew what was to come so I immediately tried to stop him by saying, “Virat, please don’t.” But as soon as I said this, Virat started howling and crying again. “Rahulllllllllllllllllll,” he cried. “You don’t understand how worried I was. Mummmmmaaaaa, you are my dearest, bestest friend in the whole wide world. And even you? Even you are making fun of my feelings? I haven’t slept in the last 48 hours you know-I have been by the Venugopal temple praying to Lord Krishna for your recovery day and night. And you make fun of me?”

“He wasn’t,” Sheetal said simply. “Yesterday night he was gorging Dominoe’s pizza while watching the India-Australia match.”

Virat turned towards Sheetal. He seemed hurt again. “But I was crying for my friend all the time,” he said with tears in his eyes.

I looked at Sheetal for confirmation. I am sure she had a very logical explanation for Virat crying provided that he had actually cried. Sheetal shrugged her shoulders again. “He cried alright,” she said. “But because Sachin Tendulkar got out in the 90’s again.”

My mom and dad laughed along with me as Virat glared at Sheetal as if she was ruining the whole show. Sheetal just grinned back at him. Virat then looked at my mom and suddenly got up and hugged her and started howling again. “Aunty jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” he cried. “Aunty jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.” My mom looked as if she had been just hit by a bottle on her head. “Aunty Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Virat cried holding my mom in a tight embrace. “Our Rahhuuuuuuuuuuuulllll. What had he done to deserve this? What harm has he ever caused anyone?” he sniffed loudly. “This world is so cruel aunty jiiiiiiiiiiiiii.” He sniffed again. My dad offered him a handkerchief. He took it with one hand, still embracing my mom who still seemed to stunned to react, then blowing into the handkerchief very loudly, he offered it back to dad. Dad looked at the hanky for a second with a grossed out expression on his face and said, “Keep it.” Virat sniffed twice more and with drew the hanky.

In order to help my mom out, dad said, “Rahul will be alright, son. You don’t need to get so emotional about it.”

Dad had no idea what he had just done. Virat left mom and then started sniffing his nose again. Then all of a sudden he went and embraced my dad tightly. And it started all over again. “Uncle jiiiiiiiiiiiii,” he cried. My dad had a look on his face which said ‘whatever did I do?’ He would know shortly what he had done. “Uncle jiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. How can you say that? Look at that poor boy lying on the bed. He has a bandage on his head. He could have permanent brain damage. Maybe partial memory loss. Maybe he won’t remember us any of us. Maybe he will get brain tumor. How do we know what that one bottle did to him? I am so worried Uncle jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Your son Rahul , my friend Rahul, God knows what that one bottle may done to him. Change him forever, that one bottle. Just one bottle.” And he blew into the kerchief again.

Dad stroked Virat’s head lightly as if to say everything would be alright. But we all knew he was doing this because he had no idea what else to do. He looked at me as if asking me to help. I just grinned at him and mouthed, “Now you know what I have to put up with everyday.” Mom was just sniggering all the time. Dad then looked at Sheetal for help. Sheetal smiled and indicated to wait a moment with her hand. She then said very sweetly, “Virat.”

Virat didn’t respond initially. He continued to hug my dad and cry. Sheetal called out his name, this time even more sweetly. “Viraaat.” Virat turned back to look at Sheetal. “Virat,” Sheetal continued to in her attempts to be saccharine sweet. “Let’s go, ok! Let Rahul have some rest.”

Virat continued to Sheetal for a few seconds before he ran towards her crying, “Sheeeeeettttttttttttaaaaaaaalllllllllll.” But before he could embrace Sheetal, she immediately put out her hand and stopped him. “No,” she simply said. And Virat didn’t take a step further. Then a few moments later Virat valiantly tried again. “Sheeeettttttttaaaallll,” he cried out and went to embrace her. The hand pulled out once again. Virat stopped in his tracks. “Virat,” Sheetal said strictly. “Out! Now!” Virat looked as if he was a 5 year old kid who had just been grounded by his mom for having too many cookies. He bowed his head down and saying bye and take care to me just walked out of the door. It was amazing to see the power that Sheetal commanded over Virat. Virat was like a dog held on a leash by Sheetal. He only went as far as Sheetal’s leash allowed him. And I was really thankful for that.

Thank you,” I told Sheetal when Virat had left the room.

“You are welcome,” she said winking at me. “So how are you feeling?”

“Better,” I replied. “Now that Virat is gone.”

She laughed. “Yeah, we all feel better because of that.”

We talked for a little while more before she began to leave. “Alright then, I’ll take leave now,” she said. She went and hugged mom. “Your son is a strong boy aunty, he’ll be out of here in no time.”

“I hope so too beta,” she replied.

She then came and pecked me on the cheek and said, “you take rest now. And call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, I will.”

She opened the door of he room and just before leaving, she turned back to look at me and said, “by the way, there’s this very pretty girl sleeping outside on a bench who I believe hasn’t left your bedside or slept in the last 48 hours or so. Thought you might wanna know.” Saying that she winked at me and left...

Rahul give back my pen

“Rahul, give back my pen.”

“Nope. I won’t.”

“Rahul, come on. Don’t act like a kid. Give me the pen back.”

“But why?”

“Because I have to complete this stupid Analog Communication assignment and submit it, that’s why.”

“You electronics people work too hard, you know that. I mean look at us Mechanical students-we seem to be jobless half the time.”

“That’s because our branch is a lot more tougher than yours. We can’t afford the easy life you have.”

“Oh come on! You are in 2nd year. I don’t know what you are working so hard for. My friends in electronics have passed 2nd year too you know. And they didn’t find Analog Communication by Simon Haykin half as interesting as you do.”

“Maybe that’s because they were smarter than me but I need to do this assignment Rahul, so would you please stop acting like a 5 year old and return me my pen?”

I looked around to see half the study hall starting at us with bloated eyes and listening to our highly animated conversation.

“You might want to keep your voice down Anjali. It’s a study hall,” I said reprimanding her as if she was a 5 year old kid herself and then gave her a huge grin as she looked at me as if she couldn’t believe me.

“I hate you,” she mouthed to me as she tried to look away from the prying eyes of the rest of the occupants of the study hall.

“I know,” I whispered back to her.

“Ok look,” I finally said after she gave me a stare as if she was hoping I would just explode by just staring at me. “No one does assignments on their own here. This is Manipal Anjali. You are degrading the name of our prestigious institute by doing an assignment on you own. Just copy it.”

Her staring at me further intensified and I felt a little cared now thinking I could as well explode by just the way she was staring at me so intensely.

“Ok!” I said. “That wasn’t the best thing to say to you, was it?”

No answer. She continued staring. “Ok-ok! Look. I am bored. And I mean really bored. So can you do the assignment later please? Can we just do something fun and then get back to your assignment?”

She folded her hands and continued staring. “I thought you were in 3rd year,” she said. “You have placements coming up. Don’t you need to prepare for them?”

“They are still a semester away Anjali. It’s not like they are tomorrow. So will you please just stop reprimanding me like you are my mother?”

Her hands remain folded and the tip of her nose itched a little. “Alright,” she said haughtily. “What do you want to do?”

“First,” I said touching her nose, “I want you to unfold those hands and bring down the tip of your nose so that I know you are not angry with me.”

She kept her hands forded for a few more seconds before I caught a hint of a smile on her lips and then she slowly broke out laughing. I once again felt helpless as I saw her smile knowing fully well that I was almost surely in love with her. “Alright, fine,” she said closing the Analog Communication textbook with a thud. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Anything which has got nothing to do with books and which you would define fun.”

“Ahhhhhh…..that’s a tricky one,” she said.

“I know.”

We sat there for a few minutes thinking of what we could do with the evening when she finally said, “Alright. I have got an idea.”

“What?” I responded.

She gave me wink and said, “Follow me.”

So I followed her out of the Study Hall, down two floors and onto the parking lot where my Pulsar was parked in all its majesty. “Start the bike,” she said. I gave her a quizzical look for a few seconds and then got onto the bike and started it. She took the pillion seat and I drove my beak out of the parking lot. “Where to?” I asked.

“Keep driving,” is all she answered.

So I drove the bike through the college and out of the campus and headed straight for Sheela. She told me to turn left and I duly did so without asking any further questions. The road was downhill from here on so I slowed down the bike a bit. We want past CCD, which I thought could be one of our likely destinations but to my surprise it wasn’t. “Where are we going?” I asked unable to help my curiosity.

“Not far now,” she answered me back.

I continued driving down the road as we went past a few buildings, restaurants and shops in our journey whose destination I had no idea about. As we went Past Shambhavi Flats, I got a bit confused. There was nothing much left. Only 2 possible destinations after Shambhavi were Down Town, a local bar and restaurant, the most preferred destination of MITians to get drunk and Q-ball, a Pool and Snooker place, adjoined to Down Town. Once we went past Down Town, we would be reaching the end of Manipal and onto Barkala and there was no way we were going to Barkala. Unless she was planning to make me drive all the way to Mangalore which a further 90 minutes away. But then no one went to Mangalore in the evening unless you were planning to stay over and return the next morning. So Mangalore was out of the question. It slowly dawned on me that Down Town could indeed be our destination.

My hunch was confirmed a few minutes later when, as we reached Down Town, she asked me to slow down and eventually stop the bike.

“DT?” I asked in amazement as I got off the bike. “You want to drink?” I asked still amazed.

“No silly,” she said leading me by the hand into the restaurant. “We are not going to drink.”

“You really know how to break a man’s heart, don’t you?” I said in jest as we looked for seats in the over crowded restaurant.

The thing about Down Town was although it was a restaurant cum Bar, it was more of a Bar than a restaurant. Or a lounge, if you wanted to call it that. There were tables assembled through out the place. Loud music blared at almost full volume through the speakers which were housed near the entrance of the restaurant so much so that you had to almost literally shout so that the other person could hear what you were speaking. Down Town was always dark, the lights were always switched off and the only source of light came from the bar located at the end of the room. The ambience of Down Town was often regarded as the best you could get in a hangout spot in Manipal with its loud music, the songs that blared out of their music system and the darkness adding an electric effect to the place and it was easy to see the reason why college students frequented this place so often. Down Town was almost always crowded during the evening. As we found a seat in the restaurant, the music system changed tracks and ‘It’s My Life’ by Bon Jove started playing. Some of the crowd went wild while the others acted as if they could care less. As long as they continued playing these rock songs no one really bothered with the music. Neither did me.

“Alright,” I said as we sat down. “You brought me to DT but we are not going to drink,” I said stating the facts. “What’s up?”

“You said you wanted to have fun,” Anjali answered as she soaked in the ambience that only DT could provide. “So- we are going to have fun.”

“Fun?” I questioned ambiguously. “Fun in DT without any alcohol,” I said. “Something must have happened to Manipal.”

“Yeah,” she responded over the sound of the music. “It’s getting better,” she said smiling.

“I hope so,” I replied. “Anyways, what fun are we going to have here?”

She waited a few moments before slowly smiling at me and saying, “We are going to play a game.”

I repeated the words she had said in my mind looking for a punch line somewhere. This had to be a joke. She brought me all the way to DT to play a game? If she thought I was going to sit here and play Rock, Scissor, Paper with her-then she was seriously going to get it from me today. Unable to find out what was supposed to be the catch line in her phrase, I questioned, “Say what?”

“I said,” she replied clearing her throat rather vigorously, “we are going to play a game.”

“Please tell me you are kidding,” I said almost pleading to her.

“Nope,” she said shaking her head. “Am totally serious.”

“What game?” I asked. I hope she didn’t come up with some obscure version of a game we used to play in 5th grade.

“I never,” she said simply.

“I never what?” I asked in bewilderment.

I couldn’t even haphazard a guess to what was going on in her mind right now.

“I never” she repeated. Seeing the look of disbelief on my face, she started explaining. “Very simple game actually. We will have a tequila shot in front of us. Then each of us would take turns saying things that they have or haven’t done. If the person hasn’t done the aforementioned thing, then he picks up the tequila shot and gulps it down. If he has or she has, then well-the shot stays put.”

I kept quite for a moment letting the words sink in. Then I said, “I thought we weren’t drinking tonight.”

“We aren’t,” she replied.

“But didn’t I just hear you say ‘tequila shots?’” I questioned.

“You did,” she replied.

“Ok,” I said drawing myself closer to her. “When was the last time tequila didn’t imply alcohol?”

“Ahhh…” she said lying back on the sofa. “But we won’t be drinking tequila.”

Then?”

“Instead of tequila shots, we’ll use the good old Mountain Dew,” she said.

“But why?” I asked.

“Because,” she said now drawing herself closer to me and whispering, “Darr ke aage jeet hai.”

“Funny,” I replied sarcastically.

“It is,” she said laughing. “Look,” she then said straightening up, “the point of the game is to know things about each other which we don’t usually ask. It isn’t getting drunk. So whether we use Tequila or Mountain Dew, it really shouldn’t make a difference.”

“You have a point there,” I said smiling at her.

“Alright then,” she said rubbing her hands as if in anticipation, “let’s order the drinks.”

We called the waiter and ordered two bottles of Mountain Dew. The waiter seemed surprised for we didn’t order anything else. He brought the bottles a few minutes later and kept it in front of us. As he was keeping the bottles on the table Anjali gave me a huge smile as if she really was expecting to unearth all my darkest secrets. I smiled back at her, half in anticipation, half in confusion.

“So? Shall we begin?” Anjali said as the waiter left.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Alright,” she said, “I’ll go first.”

She thought for a few moments before saying, “Alright. Let’s begin with a simple one. I have never touched a cigarette in my life.”

I immediately picked up the mountain dew bottle and took a sip. “Guilty as charged,” I said.

“When?” she asked.

“In 1st year. Got caught away with the whole smoking is cool in college thing. But didn’t continue for long. Quit in like a month or something,” I said.

“Hmmm….good,” she said. “Now your turn.”

“Ok…ummm….yeah~I have never completed an assignment on my own.”

I grinned at her. She smiled wryly, picked up the mountain dew bottle and drank from it. The game continued.“I have never slapped or gotten into a fight with anyone in my life,” she said.

I looked at her thinking where all this was leading to. She didn’t say anything so I duly picked up the mountain dew and repeated the exercise. She didn’t register any surprise at the revelation that I had been into fights.

“How many?” she asked matter of factly.

“Lost count,” I replied.

“Ooooohhhhh,” she said. “So you had a gang or something? Riding on your bikes, a bunch of bad boys and looking for fights.”

I laughed and said, “Nothing like that. But you just tend to get into fights. When someone talks too much and refuses to shut up, then well, using your fists is a sure shot method to shut him up.”

“Oooohhhhhh,” she began again. ‘Aren’t you the bad boy?”

“Yeah, totally,” I replied.

“Ok, your turn.”

I thought for a moment as to what else I could say here. I wanted to know a lot about her but at least in the beginning I had to keep it simple. “I have never seen the Taj Mahal,” I said without realizing if this question was even valid

She raised her bottle of mountain dew much to my surprise.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yup,” she answered drinking from the bottle.

“That’s unbelievable,” I stated. “I mean who hasn’t seen the Taj Mahal,” I said emphasizing on the statement as if it was the biggest crime not to have seen Taj Mahal.

“I haven’t,” she said answering my unintentional question.

“How come?” I asked still surprised.

“Never got the chance to,” she answered. “But don’t worry. I plan to. It’s on the top my of to-do list.”

“It better be,” I quipped.

We went back to the game. Statements flowed in thick and fast. She always seemed ready with her next statement while I had to think what to say next. It was as if she had come armed with questions about me, leaving me exposed in her presence and vulnerable. The statements were mostly harmless though and one that I didn’t mind drinking mountain dew to. We never really touched serious issues, keeping personal stuff away from the game lest anyone of us got offended. Most of the statements were like ‘I have never copied in an exam’ or ‘I have never shouted back at my mom’ or ‘I have never woken up on time for an 8’0 clock class in the morning.’ Stuff like that. Harmless and one which no one would mind answering. Most of my answers were often followed by her sweet anecdotes. Like when I admitted I had gotten into quite a few arguments with my mom, she looked as if she was going to skin me alive and then reprimanded me for arguing with the most important person in my life. “How could you?” she said as if I had just murdered someone. “She is your mother Rahul. Don’t you have any respect for her?”

I acted as if I was annoyed with her anecdotes but then in all honesty I loved them. I loved the way she would scold me like I was a 5 year old kid and at times I would pout up my face as if I was about to cry just to play along. But then I did have some serious questions. I knew they were personal and that’s why I tried to resist myself from asking them but after a while my curiosity began to get the better of me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist for long.

And then finally came that moment where my resistance broke and I finally took the plunge of trying to get my inquisitiveness answered and praying that she wouldn’t be offended.

I looked down at my bottle of mountain dew for a while, desperately trying not to look at her as I spoke, “I have never had sex.” I didn’t dare to look up. I just hoped, pleaded and prayed to God that I hadn’t crossed the line. I slowly raised my head to gauge her reaction, fearing that if I had hurt her then I would never be able to forgive myself.

When I looked up to se her reaction, I just saw a straight face without a hint of expression on it. I searched her eyes, looking for even a hint of a reaction that I had hurt her, but there was none. She just continued sitting there without batting an eyelid. For a moment it crossed my mind that she wasn’t reacting because she wasn’t supposed to. She was supposed to drink the Mountain Dew only if she hadn’t done the thing that I had mentioned and if she had, then she just waited before she continued the game. Somewhere I felt a pinch in my heart. But then she slowly raised the bottle of mountain dew to her lips and took a sip from it. It was like a truck load of weight had been shifted off my heart. I felt relieved for perhaps the thing that I had feared most hadn’t happened. 

I don’t know why I felt so. For the fact that I myself wasn’t a virgin meant that I had no right to judge others or think lesser of them if they weren’t. And thought it wouldn’t have made a difference at all towards my feelings for Anjali, somehow I just felt happy. Even relieved to an extent. So she hadn’t got to that level of intimacy with Mohit. But then I expected it. Her dreams, her simplicity, her innocence meant that she believed in those principles which I seemed to have long forgotten. And that one sip of mountain dew confirmed that simple fact-she remained as I had imagined her to be, the picture that I had of her remained untainted-pure and untouched.

Yet the awkwardness of the moment didn’t slip by any of us. We both didn’t say anything for a while. I was aware that I had embarrassed her a bit and myself too but my bigger concern was that I hadn’t hurt her. So far though I looked to be safe. 

I almost saw a hint of a smile on her face. As if knowing that I wasn’t a morally corrupt person eased her of a burden I wasn’t aware of. I hated lying to her. Yet somehow, the truth would be far too painful than a simple lie. And so I continued with the lie. For her sake, for my sake.

“Ok,” she said. “Last round. So shoot.”

I thought of the one thing that I wanted to know more than anything in the world right now. The one thing that would make this game more than what it was. The one thing that would clear all the doubts from my mind and wash away all the cobwebs. And so, knowing very well that this might be my last chance to know the truth, the one truth that would all the difference in the world right now, I once again plunged myself into an abyss the depths of which I had no idea about.

“I….” I slowly began, “am not in love.” 

The music continued playing somewhere in the background. But with each passing moment the music seemed to dissolve into the space between me and Anjali so much so that it didn’t matter anymore. There were people shouting, screaming and getting drunk but the people didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. All that mattered was the moment, so beautifully fusing with the surroundings that it seemed to create an atmosphere if its own. And somewhere in the chaos sat two souls whose destiny would be decided by one bottle of mountain dew. She seemed hesitant, not knowing how to respond. I thought back to that moment when we had first come here and asked her the reason as to why we were playing this game with mountain dew and not teqilas. I remembered her reply and smiled. ‘Darr kea age jeet hai Anjali,’ I thought to myself. For if she could over ride that fear, that hesitance that seemed to have unsettled her, then maybe, just maybe, I could win the most cherished thing in the world, the one I had been craving for so long-love. All she had to do was pick up that bottle of mountain dew. ‘Pick it up Anjali, pick that bottle, I know you want to pick it,’ I kept telling myself.

I looked at her and saw nervousness in her eyes. I wished I could relay to her how much this moment meant for me. Then I decided that maybe I should drink first. Maybe that might encourage her. So I raised my bottle of mountain dew and giving her a slight glance took a sip. I kept the bottle down and gave her a small smile confirming that ‘yes-I was in love.’ Her eyes slowly moved a little as I smiled at her. Her expression change just a bit. And I knew that this was the moment of the truth. And slowly her hands reached towards that bottle of mountain dew. She clenched it in her fists and then with one small jerk raised it to her mouth. As the bottle touched her sumptuous lips, she gave me the slightest of smiles and then that liquid inside the bottle went down her throat. I felt like that mountain dew was quenching my own thirst, wetting my throat which had dried up in anticipation. My heart which had almost stopped for a while was beating again. And I had that amazing feeling to just jump up and down and dance wildly in celebration. Yet I somehow managed remain seated.

As she kept the bottle back, neither of us said a word. We just sat there, staring at each other, wondering how much just this one little action of ours meant. It meant the world to me. I hoped it meant the same for her. The music was still playing somewhere in the background but we remained oblivious to it. The crowd kept shouting but we had lost track of them a long while ago. We were in our own world, a world which could not be touched by the people or the things around us, where we had set our own little home and no one but us could enter it. “Let’s go,” I said after a while although I wish I could stay there looking at her forever.

Anjali I Love YOU

Anjali I Love YOU
Rahul: Hey Anjali.
Anjali: Hey Rahul. How are you?
Rahul. I am fine. And you are looking very gorgeous today.
Anjali: Why thank you, Rahul. You are looking very
handsome too.
Rahul: Oh comeon, you are just saying that.
Anjali: No need to be so modest Rahul. I am sure you are aware that you are one of the best looking men in this place.
Rahul: Oh stop now. Enough with the compliments.
Anjali: Ah, you are so modest Rahul. That’s why I like you.
Rahul: You like me.
Anjali: Oops, I shouldn’t have said that.

“Rahul,” Virat said, “walks up to our heroine Anjali with the stars glistening in the sky and taking her hand in his, looking into her beautiful eyes says,”

Rahul: You know, Anjali, I have always been in love with you. Ever since I saw you on that night at Thaloor’s, I have never been able to stop thinking about you. Ever since I looked into your beautiful eyes, I have lost myself in them and I can’t find a way back. For I want to loose myself forever in those eyes. I want to keep looking at you as if there’s no tomorrow. I want to love you like no one has ever loved before. I want to be with you like no one has ever wanted to be with anyone else. I love you Anjali, I have always loved and I will always love you.”

I had actually lost myself in those words of Virat
Wow. That was intense. I had actually lost myself in those words that Virat had said. I had written them but the way Virat said it, I was actually imagining saying those words. And man-were they intense!


“Rahul and Anjali kept looking into each other’s eyes,” Virat continued, “and then slowly, they moved towards each other,” Virat’s hands came closer, “their lips came close,” the distance between Virat’s hands continued to decrease, “and closer and closer, without a care in the world, under the glistening moonlight, two bodies and two souls,” God, how I wanted those two hands to meet each other, “were about to unite,” they were at touching distance now, “and then,” there that’s it, just 1 more second, “muah muah muah muah muah muah.” Virat’s two hands were supposedly kissing each other now but in the most ludicrous way possible. He had just taken the Mickey out of me. In exasperation, I grabbed my alarm clock and threw it at him. Virat ducked and the alarm clock crashed against the wall and fell on to Virat’s bed.

“Easy dude,” Virat said. “I didn’t know Anjali meant that much to you.”

“Shut up,” I said, “and I am not in love with her or anyone else for that matter. So stop making fun of me.”

“Now see,” Virat replied, “if you actually had an argument I would have listened to you. But even you know that you are falling in love with this girl and how much ever you deny it, the truth will come out sooner or later.”
“Oh shut up,” I said and left the room.

“And look whom I just found?”
“The hydraulic power of the machines are related to its...” the professor drawled on in the class while me and Virat played a game of hangman in my notebook. “K,” I whispered to Virat hoping it could fill one of the 8 dashes that he had made in my notebook. “Nope,” Virat said and started drawing a hand on to an already existing face nearby the 8 dashes. “Damn!” I replied and stared straight ahead at the blackboard pretending that I was catching onto every word the professor had said.
“40 minutes more,” Virat said. 40 damn minutes before the class got over. Who would have thought that only 20 minutes of the class was over? It seemed liked I had been sitting here for eternity.

“And look whom I just found?” I heard Virat say out of nowhere.

“What?” I asked.

I turned to Virat and saw him staring out of the window.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.

“Have a look,” he answered.
I looked outside the window. Our classroom was on the 3rd floor so I had nudge my head a little bit to see clearly what Virat was staring at. It was Anjali. She was standing alone, along one of the railings at Frustration point, staring into the horizon.

Frustration Point“Must be feeling lonely,” Virat commented.
“How do you know?” I asked in return.
“Oh come on dude! Why else would she be standing at Frustration point all by herself? Basic common sense.”

Virat was right. You didn’t go to frustration point all by yourself unless you wanted a moment of solitude. When things got too heavy for your mind, you go to frustration point and ponder about everything that’s wrong with the world.

Frustration point was one of the many points in Manipal. There was end point, peacock point, fish point, parota point and don’t ask me why Manipal seemed to be fixated with the term points. They just existed. Frustration point was this place in our campus just outside our college building which overlooked a grass land. It was a breath taking sight and when I had first reached Manipal and been to frustration point, I was stunned to see a sight of beauty in the campus itself. Again, none of us knew why it was named frustration point but we didn’t really care about the details. We accepted it as one the great unexplained mysteries of life. So frustration point or frustu became one of the most common hangout spots of the college. In 1st year we friends used to gather there almost every evening. Partially because the sight in the night was even more beautiful and partially because you could find couples making out here very often.

“I am leaving,”

And as young adolescent first years, there were very few thrills in the world as good as compared to watching couples making out as if they were all alone and sniggering at them.

“Maybe she could use some company,” Virat suggested bringing me back to the present.

I didn’t answer back. I looked outside the window at that lonely figure, standing all by her self and wondered what could be troubling her. Why is it that when a relationship gets over, one person tens to be more heart broken than the other? How is it that when two people who were so in love can’t work things out? Wasn’t love supposed to triumph above all? Or was their love just not strong enough to last the distance? Maybe they thought their love was strong but maybe all that was an illusion? Because as far as I knew, true love never gave up. There were just too many questions bothering my mind. All of a sudden I felt the need to go to Frustu as well.

“I am leaving,” I told Virat.

“What?” he said.

“I said I am leaving.”

“But where?”

Virat had a completely baffled look on his face. I nodded towards frustu and said, “There.”

“But the class isn’t over yet,” Virat reminded me.

“I know,” I replied, “I am going to escape when the professor isn’t looking.

“Dude, the door is at the other end. You’ll have to be really lucky to make it out. It’s not as if you are just sitting next to the door,” Virat pointed out.

the great things about our classrooms was its architectureNow one of the great things about our classrooms was its architecture. The door of the classroom was actually in the middle rather than the beginning. And the benches were aligned in such a way that the 3rd bench fell right next to the door. So if you were lucky enough, while the professor was scribbling something on the blackboard, you could escape without him noticing. If the professor took the attendance at the beginning of the class, then there were quite a few who would try their hand at the great escape. Others were either too sincere or just too gutless.

Today I happened to be sitting at the other end of the classroom, the one away from the door. So I would have to make way around the entire class before making my escape. It wasn’t easy but I felt a strong urge to go to frustu. I felt if I didn’t go then I would be missing a huge opportunity. Like something could go missing from my life forever. I didn’t know why I felt like that. But I just did. I had no idea why after getting humiliated by this girl twice, I still felt as if I had to somehow talk to her. To speak to her and clear things up. Why? I wondered. There was no answer.
.....

“I am still going,” I told Virat as I closed my notebook and kept my pen in my pocket.

“You are crazy,” Virat said.
“Bring my bag back to the room, ok?” I said as I got ready to get up from the seat.
My first task was to go to the last bench of the classroom on our side. “You re crazy,” Virat said again. “All this for her?”

The professor turned. I got up from my seat and looking straight at Virat said, “Maybe,” and then I ran to the last bench of the classroom. I took the right most seat. The other students sitting on that bench looked at me as if I was a squat.
“Escaping?” the guy sitting next to me asked. His name was Shirsendu.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“But he hasn’t taken attendance yet,” Shirsendu said pointing towards the professor.
“I know,” I replied, “but I am bored,” and winking at him I again got up and stealthily made it to the last bench of the leftmost column, the one where the benches were closer to the door. 2nd step done, I thought to myself.

I prepared myself again. Two more steps left. I had to first make it to the 3rd row as that one was the closest to the door. Then the next time professor turned, I would make my escape.

I looked at the guy sitting next to me. It was Appu, one of those south Indians who spoke English with a heavy accent and had strange names. I mean, what kind of name was appu? “Wat ya dooing man?” Appu said in his typical style.
Man, talking to him was like a stretch. They would just screw up the English language as if they had been taught from childhood to screw it as much as possible.

“Nothing man,” I replied.

“You aar trying to escaap, aren’t ya?” Appu said. Are becomes aar in their language, I guess.

“Yeah man,” I replied, “but it’s an emergency. My brother just had an accident and I really need to go visit him. Doctors say he is in a very critical condition and that if I don’t go I probably would never see him again,” I said bringing fake tears to my eyes. This was the one way to shut up people like Appu. Or else they would drawl on forever and forever. “Oh,” Appu said, “I am saary.”

The professor turned. I took one look at Appu’s face, saw my opportunity and just before rising from the seat I kissed Appu on the cheek and said,” It’s ok man. I’ll tell my brother you send your love,” and then got up from the seat and escaped to the 3rd row. As soon as I reached there, the professor turned towards us again. I had managed to sit in just the nick of time.

I looked across at the other raw and saw Virat staring at me. He was revolving his index across his brain and pointing towards me to say I was crazy. And then he got his two hands up again and did that whole kissing thing again. I could see him mouthing, ‘muah muah muah muah muah.’
Oh, how I hated Virat. I looked straight again. The professor was still talking. Then, a minute later, the professor turned to write on the black board. As soon as he turned, I gave one last look to Virat, mouthed, “Screw you,” and then was out in a flash.