The reason why she ever ended up in Indore, about a 1000 kms north of her home, I will not disclose. Her father could sue me for defaming his family. Just know that she was in Indore because it was her father's bright idea to keep her out of my wicked reach.
It had been six months since I'd seen her last. I was stuck at home in Coimbatore, with no headway made on the career front. Sneaking out of home for a few hours is a possibility, but sneaking away to Indore was too insane an idea! So I gave rest to that line of thought completely.
By a great stroke of luck, that year in April, it turned out that I had cleared my 'Written exams' and was required in Delhi for the interview. It was very convenient to make up a lie about a prolonged medical test and extend my stay by two days in Delhi. And I would, ofcourse, be spending those two days trying to prove her father wrong;that Indore is well within my wicked reach.
From Delhi, I dialled headquarters.
"Pa, my medical examination is delayed. I'll take another two days"
The plan was hatched. I make a trip from Delhi to Indore and return in two days time.After which I catch a train to Coimbatore from Delhi. I ran over the plan again before I went to sleep. "Tomorrow, I'll be on my way"
I put in great effort and woke up early at around 10:00 AM with the help of an alarm. The things I do in the name of love! Inspite of waking up early I could make it to New Delhi Railway Station only around 2:00 PM !! And I had not made a reservation. Ofcourse I didn't , thats way too organised even for me.
New Delhi station has twelve long platforms filled with commuters, their baggage, rats and paan stains everywhere. I walked to the counters to get an open ticket. There were about six counters and each of them had one quarter of the country's population standing in a que before it. I had ten minutes to get a ticket and catch the 2:30 train to bhopal.
That was when I saw an avatar of hanuman dressed in khakhi--the friendly neighbourhood policeman!
"kya hua saab?" , he raised an eyebrow at me.
"ticket chahiye. bhopal jaane ka"
" 200 extra...."
"nahi.. 100"
"150?"
"tk. 150!" . The subtle art , picked up over years of observation, of 'enticing' an officer came in handy that afternoon.
I watched as he walked ahead of the entire populace that was in que, not giving two hoots, and came back to hand me over a ticket with a wink. I dashed to the platform with an open ticket in hand. One hundred and fifty rupees well spent.
I Rushed to the TTE of that train.
"100?... 150?... 300?.. 500?"
"No vacant seats! "
Surely a general compartment can't be all that bad. I consoled myself.
Half an hour later, I was wedged between two non-descript men on a wooden bench inside a general compartment. In front of me were some travellers from the Punjab, heading somewhere into Madhya Pradesh. The family seemed to have a grandmother or two, maybe more, two girls in their early twenties and a kid brother.
Sometime during the day I noticed their kid brother swaying wildly like a monkey near the compartment's exit. I signalled to the girls waving my hands about wildly , "Look! You're little brother is acting crazy! He is gonna get hurt! " . She spat something in Punjabi, the only word of which I could comprehend was "angrez" . She didnt speak Hindi or English. (or Tamil).
"Err!" , again waved my hands about.She looked the way I pointed and noticed her younger brother, and turned back to face me, beaming with pride. Probably thinking to herself "What a strong Tarzan of a younger brother I have! What is this freak's problem anyway, Behan*** " . I stopped after that. These girls might look pretty, but damn they're evil.
I wish I cud narrate to you in detail all that they conversed about, but my tryst with punjab goes only as far as Sardarji jokes. But it was "Balle!Balle!" all the bloody way . All afternoon, all night. And the train only piled on more bodies into that small compartment as it stopped along the way.
That night sitting wedged amidst a mass of alien people, I held my shoulder bag tight against my chest, rested my head and thought of her beautiful face. All the heat, the crowd, the humidity, the hours of travel , and the fatigue--- none of it mattered anymore.
Reaching Indore the next afternoon with a sore back, I met her in her sister-in-law's home. Her sister-in-law gave us some hope ,telling us how she herself had fought hard to marry the man she loved. We were left alone after that, and I was thankful.
Looking back at those few hours I spent with her, it is not words or events that I recall.There was a certain quality about her, and it always seemed to prop me up in the most subtle of ways. What is most vivid in my mind is that her silence spoke a thousand things to me that day. She was too pained to speak, having spent months alone in Indore, as a consequence of her choice to stand by me and wait. And, I was too troubled to speak, fighting a losing battle for the third time now with the Union Public Service Commission.
"Will you have some lunch?"
That has always been her manner of displaying affection. Never loud, never openly stated. Forever focusing on simpler things like if I was hungry or whether I slept well.
During the rest of the day she shared with me all that she wanted to...
"Look at my certificates; this one I got from my karate classes in school"
" I wish I could take you to a movie, but we dont have time"
"I want you to see my favourite ice-cream parlour in Indore"
"I want you to see my favourite restaurant in Indore"
When we walked out of her favourite ice-cream parlour, too dazed in each other's prescence, we forgot to pay the bill. I still remember that even the cashier of 'Top-in-Town',for that was the name of the parlour, was smiling broadly , like cupid's arrow had struck him.
I had to catch a taxi to bhopal and hop on a train from Bhopal to Delhi. It was time for me to say good bye.
Standing by the side of that highway, next to a taxi, I shook her hands with a straightface and bid her goodbye. God knows why I go into an emotional shutdown during the most critical of occassions, and neither was she the type who was very fond of public displays of affection; and so that had to be goodbye then, with a handshake.
The Lord knows what got into her that day, when for a fleeting second she held me in a hug ever-so lightly, and placed a kiss on my neck. Even a feather's touch would linger longer than hers. A breezy hug and a fleeting kiss. She looked her best admired from a distance, and that was how it was meant to be.
She turned to the driver, "Bhaiya, Drive carefully" . Then at me, "Take care. Tata".
And she was gone.
I wish I could write more on my return journey where I was caught jay-walking on the platform in bhopal, almost taken to a magistrate, but bribed my way out again and so on..... but this tale is best narrated another day . Too much love can be dis-orienting ! ;-)
It had been six months since I'd seen her last. I was stuck at home in Coimbatore, with no headway made on the career front. Sneaking out of home for a few hours is a possibility, but sneaking away to Indore was too insane an idea! So I gave rest to that line of thought completely.
By a great stroke of luck, that year in April, it turned out that I had cleared my 'Written exams' and was required in Delhi for the interview. It was very convenient to make up a lie about a prolonged medical test and extend my stay by two days in Delhi. And I would, ofcourse, be spending those two days trying to prove her father wrong;that Indore is well within my wicked reach.
From Delhi, I dialled headquarters.
"Pa, my medical examination is delayed. I'll take another two days"
The plan was hatched. I make a trip from Delhi to Indore and return in two days time.After which I catch a train to Coimbatore from Delhi. I ran over the plan again before I went to sleep. "Tomorrow, I'll be on my way"
I put in great effort and woke up early at around 10:00 AM with the help of an alarm. The things I do in the name of love! Inspite of waking up early I could make it to New Delhi Railway Station only around 2:00 PM !! And I had not made a reservation. Ofcourse I didn't , thats way too organised even for me.
New Delhi station has twelve long platforms filled with commuters, their baggage, rats and paan stains everywhere. I walked to the counters to get an open ticket. There were about six counters and each of them had one quarter of the country's population standing in a que before it. I had ten minutes to get a ticket and catch the 2:30 train to bhopal.
That was when I saw an avatar of hanuman dressed in khakhi--the friendly neighbourhood policeman!
"kya hua saab?" , he raised an eyebrow at me.
"ticket chahiye. bhopal jaane ka"
" 200 extra...."
"nahi.. 100"
"150?"
"tk. 150!" . The subtle art , picked up over years of observation, of 'enticing' an officer came in handy that afternoon.
I watched as he walked ahead of the entire populace that was in que, not giving two hoots, and came back to hand me over a ticket with a wink. I dashed to the platform with an open ticket in hand. One hundred and fifty rupees well spent.
I Rushed to the TTE of that train.
"100?... 150?... 300?.. 500?"
"No vacant seats! "
Surely a general compartment can't be all that bad. I consoled myself.
Half an hour later, I was wedged between two non-descript men on a wooden bench inside a general compartment. In front of me were some travellers from the Punjab, heading somewhere into Madhya Pradesh. The family seemed to have a grandmother or two, maybe more, two girls in their early twenties and a kid brother.
Sometime during the day I noticed their kid brother swaying wildly like a monkey near the compartment's exit. I signalled to the girls waving my hands about wildly , "Look! You're little brother is acting crazy! He is gonna get hurt! " . She spat something in Punjabi, the only word of which I could comprehend was "angrez" . She didnt speak Hindi or English. (or Tamil).
"Err!" , again waved my hands about.She looked the way I pointed and noticed her younger brother, and turned back to face me, beaming with pride. Probably thinking to herself "What a strong Tarzan of a younger brother I have! What is this freak's problem anyway, Behan*** " . I stopped after that. These girls might look pretty, but damn they're evil.
I wish I cud narrate to you in detail all that they conversed about, but my tryst with punjab goes only as far as Sardarji jokes. But it was "Balle!Balle!" all the bloody way . All afternoon, all night. And the train only piled on more bodies into that small compartment as it stopped along the way.
That night sitting wedged amidst a mass of alien people, I held my shoulder bag tight against my chest, rested my head and thought of her beautiful face. All the heat, the crowd, the humidity, the hours of travel , and the fatigue--- none of it mattered anymore.
Reaching Indore the next afternoon with a sore back, I met her in her sister-in-law's home. Her sister-in-law gave us some hope ,telling us how she herself had fought hard to marry the man she loved. We were left alone after that, and I was thankful.
Looking back at those few hours I spent with her, it is not words or events that I recall.There was a certain quality about her, and it always seemed to prop me up in the most subtle of ways. What is most vivid in my mind is that her silence spoke a thousand things to me that day. She was too pained to speak, having spent months alone in Indore, as a consequence of her choice to stand by me and wait. And, I was too troubled to speak, fighting a losing battle for the third time now with the Union Public Service Commission.
"Will you have some lunch?"
That has always been her manner of displaying affection. Never loud, never openly stated. Forever focusing on simpler things like if I was hungry or whether I slept well.
During the rest of the day she shared with me all that she wanted to...
"Look at my certificates; this one I got from my karate classes in school"
" I wish I could take you to a movie, but we dont have time"
"I want you to see my favourite ice-cream parlour in Indore"
"I want you to see my favourite restaurant in Indore"
When we walked out of her favourite ice-cream parlour, too dazed in each other's prescence, we forgot to pay the bill. I still remember that even the cashier of 'Top-in-Town',for that was the name of the parlour, was smiling broadly , like cupid's arrow had struck him.
I had to catch a taxi to bhopal and hop on a train from Bhopal to Delhi. It was time for me to say good bye.
Standing by the side of that highway, next to a taxi, I shook her hands with a straightface and bid her goodbye. God knows why I go into an emotional shutdown during the most critical of occassions, and neither was she the type who was very fond of public displays of affection; and so that had to be goodbye then, with a handshake.
The Lord knows what got into her that day, when for a fleeting second she held me in a hug ever-so lightly, and placed a kiss on my neck. Even a feather's touch would linger longer than hers. A breezy hug and a fleeting kiss. She looked her best admired from a distance, and that was how it was meant to be.
She turned to the driver, "Bhaiya, Drive carefully" . Then at me, "Take care. Tata".
And she was gone.
I wish I could write more on my return journey where I was caught jay-walking on the platform in bhopal, almost taken to a magistrate, but bribed my way out again and so on..... but this tale is best narrated another day . Too much love can be dis-orienting ! ;-)
