I grew without any hard feelings for I never had any chance of having it. I was this free bird that had no hindrance to roam around the world anywhere anytime. No bounds, no hurdles. I took my mind wherever it wanted to roam around. Thankfully it never went in a wrong direction. With that surety, my parents never worried about me though I was not good at studies. They always thought one day I will change once I figure out my responsibilities.
A lot had changed. CHANGE - I always paid close attention to it all through my life. In the 75 years of my life, I was used to it. Everything, every single stuff, every single human, every single living organism, every single non-living thing, everything had changed either slowly or rapidly. Even I had changed, not only physically – which no one could resist, but mentally too. I was not what I used to be. When I was 25, I was not the one that I was at 10 or 15. When I was 50, I was not the one that I was at 25.
When I was 15, the most liked stuff for me was playing, specifically cricket. In fact, it was the only stuff that I liked at all. As soon as I harked back home from school, I was with the bat, and friends till the sun hid its rays. No need to say about the weekends. Day and night we used to play, play and play. I hardly spent my time at home with my parents on weekends. After few years, I headed to badminton, then to hockey and so on. At 22 and all, I hardly touched the cricket bat. It was the time when I was addicted to table tennis. It was only by then I touched the TT bat for the first time in my whole life. Nevertheless, I simply loved the game though I wasn’t good at it. I was good enough to play to kill the time, and to beat few of my friends. I never expected more than that after all I wasn’t going to represent INDIA at Olympics.
I still remember the days when I used to get a rubber ball for 6 rupees. We guys burned out to collect those 6 rupees itself. Everyone would contribute as much as they could, ranging from 25 paisa to 1 rupee. The ball that was 6 rupees by then cost 20 rupees in 10 years time. I was earning well enough to get it, all by myself, as easy as I used to get a 5 paisa chocolate 10 years before. Things changed not only in sports, but even in other stuffs. I always remembered the good olden days – the streets where we played cricket at daytime, and hide and seek at nighttime. I hardly saw those places when I walked over there some 15 years later. The later generation preferred playing indoor games, I suppose. Furthermore, our generation guys when became parents, changed well enough to restrict their children from doing what they did when they were at their age.
I hardly saw any boys playing out there in the streets. Man, they missed the fun. No matter whatever facility they got while playing indoor. I always compassionated for my children although I made sure they incur the fun as much as possible. Those street fights, those quarrels, those run-ins, I missed them all. My children missed them all. That was the age when we guys - some of us, had some silly fights and kept ourselves away from each other from talking. I had experienced such incidents thrice. Twice I gave up and carried on my friendship with the other after few weeks. But I never did the same with the third guy, in fact my last. He was never ready to forfeit, so did I. No matter how hard our other friends tried. I regret for it still. He got transferred that summer to some other town not even biding a good bye to me. I never saw him again. That haunts me forever.
I was never a studious guy till my eighth class. I always feared of the date when the parent-teacher meeting was organized. During that day my teacher’s words were vicious. I always felt the meeting was only barbarous. They shot their words frantically against me to my mom, who used to attend all such meetings. My DAD was a gem. He was too busy in office to attend these non-sensible activities, I thought. Later that day, my mom shot those same words at my dad to agitate him. The effect of that was he shot back even more frantically with his own bullets at me. He wasn’t a gem at that instance, I thought. The effect of that was I shot the real bullets at my teachers in my dreams. Not at all, but only at those who shot with their words at me. Alas, I was cruel.
Things changed. I became studious enough to get admission in a well reputed college in the state. When I came out of it, I had a job. That was what all wanted. My parents wanted. The professors wanted. I wanted too. That was the career part of my life. It wasn’t too bad for an individual, as a matter of fact not bad at all. I made my parents happy and respected among our relatives and known friends. What more they need? What more I need? Nothing, really.
No man is complete without a woman. That can be said when a guy is beyond his teen age. At 10 or so, it can be formulated as no boy is complete without a girl. When I was boy, I wanted to be complete. May be because of what I had a crush on my class mate. I was like, I will die for her. Man, I didn’t even know how to die by then.
As every other’s crush, mine too had a negligible lifetime. She went away. No worries I had, it was in fact a crush after all. No worries, as I sprung up a crush on another who was even more cute and smart than my first. The lifetime of this was a bit lengthier and stronger than my previous. I was happy for that. By the time I finished my higher secondary, I had almost 10. They can be either be grouped under a crush or an infatuation. Both are one after all. Whatever, I wasn’t affected by any. I seldom cared about those when I entered the college where I had another 5 that could be grouped under the same category. I wasn’t affected. Actually I had another. It can’t be grouped with the five. It was way more than that. It worked. She was PRIYA. We were almost at the stage when a love was about to sprung up from our friendship. For the first time, I felt that FATE had its hand on me. She died in a brutal accident when we were on our 3rd year of our degree. I always wondered whether it would have been changed over to love. I supposed so. The effect was buried in me somewhere deep as I never had any crush on anyone thereafter. I missed her, only for the next few years until I saw the real FIRST LOVE of my life.
I missed her till the day I saw NEHA. I never thought of becoming a musician till the moment I saw NEHA, not even in my dreams, and not even in my answer to the questions put before me by my teachers, my friends, the strangers and more importantly, the inevitable - my parents. I always answered them something cheesy. But on the button, the same answer was never repeated. This shows how unsure I was about my future by then. It always sounded incredulous to me whenever I looked back those days. I always remembered the day when my answer made the whole class express their mirth incessantly.
“Well, Suresh. What are you going to be 15 years from now?” My class teacher asked me after she hurled it to the front benchers.
It was when I was sitting miserably in my 5th class. Of course I was miserable. Who else won’t after kneeling down for 30 minutes? Thanks to my science teacher and naturally, thanks to me for not doing the home work. I wasn’t even 15 years of age. She asked me a question that had 15 years of future in it. It wasn’t bizarre though.
“I would be a car driver,” I stammered.
The whole class, including my class teacher, blurted out laughing. The class finally gave up only because of her, but sadly only after 10 minutes. It was the time when I was brainsick about driving. I wasn’t even aware of driving a bicycle by then, but that didn’t have any effect on my craziness. The thing was I was crazy about driving.
“Well, you will be a taxi driver? If that is the case, why do you struggle here in the school with your studies?” She shrieked. She might be disappointed with my answer, or she might have seen me kneeling down in the previous class, or might be the science teacher had complained about me on the way back to her desk, or she might knew about me as I was in the same school for the past 3 years – so was she, or might be because I wasn’t a studious guy or she might have thought it as a frivolous answer.
“Veritably, not a Taxi driver, but a driver. She, my sister, wants to be an I.A.S officer and I want to drive her safe always. And Well, I wasn’t aware of the rule that a Taxi driver need not study,” I answered in a bit harsh tone as I was embarrassed by her question. My teacher’s face was contorted (probably with anger) and the whole class was dumbstruck for few minutes. For a second, I thought I had balled up the hour. Thankfully, my teacher wasn’t furious enough to question me further or to hold me in contempt. As a matter of fact, my sister never became an I.A.S officer, and I never was her driver till date. Even if she had become, I wouldn’t have been her driver.
The moment I saw her, she – NEHA, the musician – who was blotting out in me came to existence ignoring me. As soon as I saw her I fucking composed a tune and wrote the lyrics for the same, later. It was indeed incredulous and skeptical. It was after that day, and more importantly, because of the tune that made me addicted to it for the rest of my life; I wanted to be a musician. Seriously, not of the sort of A.R.Rahman, but of the sort who compose for their loved ones. I wanted to compose myriad songs for her, especially for her and only for her.
NEHA – She was my colleague in the bank where I worked. Yes, after my college I joined in the I.T firm (as almost all did) for which I was recruited through the campus interview. Unlike my early school days, I was smart enough in the college to end up with a job in the country’s leading I.T. firm. But due to some unknown reasons, I wasn’t much interested in working there for more than a year. I wrote this bank exam, wasn’t hard for guys like me who was good at the aptitude and the language, cleared it, put my papers in my previous company and joined the bank. My parents too supported my move as they were not keen in me working in the I.T. firm, and moreover they wanted me to be a government employee.
It was one of the best decisions I had ever taken in my life as I got a government job. What is more, I met my NEHA who unlike me joined the bank right after her college. That shows how smart she was. It was one of the cardinal reasons I fell for her. She was damn smart and cute. She was funny at times too. In a simpler way, she was like me. Ok, forget the middle part. I wasn’t cute (as her), but I was damn smart, and funny AT TIMES.
In our day to day life, we do a lot of stuffs, most of the times, deliberately and sometimes by means of some pressure or some force. Are we doing these stuffs with some kind of passion, as in, without any hate? The answer is a straight NO. I personally hate, to be precise, hated many. The top of all was this thing – Washing the clothes. Damn, I always thought it was the worst, and the most difficult task one had to do as a part of his daily activity (in most case, weekly activity). I hated it to the core until I found my washing room as my studio, until I started composing the tunes while doing it, thinking of her – My NEHA.
NEHA – she joined the bank as a trainee as I did. She did her master degree before joining the bank. She was a few months elder to me. It was the first thing I saw in her transfer certificate. I didn’t care. She was my batch mate in the training period. Luckily she was posted in the same branch in which I was posted. So we had quite a rapport from the beginning. We became good friends. But I began to think beyond that. It was not only her comely face that made me to fall for her. It was not her charming disposition either. It was not her caring either. It was something else which I only felt.
To bring up one - just to sum up the reason for me to fell for her. What will all, except NEHA – as far as I know, do when they are left with an extra food that was cooked the day before? Threw it in the trash bin, won’t they? That’s was my mom used to do. That’s what my aunt used to do. That’s what my neighbors used to do. But she, my NEHA didn’t. She hopped down the steps, went to the nearby temple that was located two streets away from hers, and gave the food to the beggars who sat there. She was a GEM, wasn’t she? Of course my mom at times used to give the remained food to the beggars or to the lady who comes on alternate days to collect the trash from our home, only when they came at our doorstep. But NEHA went and gave at their doorstep. Who will want to miss such a girl in their life? I wasn’t ready to miss her.
After several months, after I read her character completely, after I was sure that she was the one I was waiting for, after presuming that she will fill my life, I proposed her through a SMS. Fuck, No reply. I horlicksed and complaned my mind saying that the SMS wouldn’t have reached her. I was too nervous to make a call to her by then. I waited for the next day.
She came to the office at 8 A.M. sharp as usual. I went to the office at 7:45 a.m. sharp which was obviously not as usual. I knew that. Our office security knew that. She entered, saw me and went straight to her seat without even greeting me that she did everyday with the charming smile on her comely face. I corroborated from her activities that the SMS has reached her safely in the expected time.
That day, she called me to the canteen while leaving the office. That was not usual. We never went to canteen while leaving, that too baring Mrs. SNEHA VISHNU. But it happened that day. I darted behind her like the hutch-dog. She blabbered for almost ten minutes. I maintained my dignity by not intruding her. She left me standing there alone. She left me standing in my life alone. Her ten minutes blabbering meant she rejected my proposal. Funny part was she didn’t even bung a single reason for that.
Next day I reached office by 7 a.m. sharp. The security stood in AWE for quite SOME time at the door. I mailed her a long letter. I waited for her swirling in my chair. She came. No greeting as she did the day before. I waited for her to check her mail box. Hopefully, she did. I waited for her to reply me. She didn’t. I didn’t get a reply for the entire day. Damn it, she was ADAMANT and ABRASIVE. I called her to the canteen while leaving the office. That was not usual. But it happened that day. She darted behind me this time, not as a hutch-dog though. Thanks to her for at least she didn’t insult me by not coming. May be she reciprocated for what I did the day before. I started, but she intruded at regular intervals. Nothing worked out despite my dry runs the other night. Plan A, Plan B, Plan C and Plan D as well, nothing. She made an attempt to end the conversation by saying SORRY. But I did end the conversation by saying, “I will love you forever. You are the one whom I will marry else I won’t at all. I swear. Now I leave it to you to decide” It wasn’t in any of the four plans. I didn’t do a dry run for these words. It came all of a sudden, but I meant it. She left without bunging any reply. I was frustrated. I was angry. I was in an intemperate disposition.
I always wondered whenever I read the news about some suicides for failing in their love. I always wondered why the hell they had to end their life for the sake of love. I thought there were a lot of stuffs in this world that had more importance than their love. I even read and heard the news about some even posing a cut in their hand or others parts with a knife or blade for the sake of love. I always categorized those duffers as namby-pambies. When I failed in my love, when I was haunted by her memories, I wanted to fall in that category. But somehow I didn’t as my mind was always directing or at least controlling my body in a sane way. But I badly wanted to do so as I wanted a pain that could overcome the pain created by her. Thanks to my sanity, I accepted to live with the pain created by her.
I badly wanted to kill time which reminded me of her, only of her. I rode my bike to the place where it directed me actually. My speedometer flickered between 100 and 110 KMPH in its dial. It was more than twice as speed as I normally did. The ride and specifically the speed almost tried its hand to make me get rid of the pain that was left behind her, by her. I always enjoyed riding my vehicle (after all I wanted to be a driver) alone in an empty or at least near-empty road. I simply loved it if only had I not to meet up with the hindrances in the form of a traffic patrol asking for the documents (only to end up asking for few bucks later), some strangers asking for a lift, or in the worst case, flat tire.
Unfortunately as fate had its hand on me yet, my ride was hindered by the worst case, flat tire. Given I was in the worst possible mindset, I was neither in the mood to fix it at the earliest nor to call someone for help. I parked the bike near a tree and lay on the cleanest possible area beneath the tree. Luckily the climate was awesome. I was sure that it might rain heavily, or at least, even in fates way, it might drizzle. I looked around. Thank God I didn’t see anyone or any vehicle in either side. I looked around again. I saw a vehicle few meters away from me and there stood a girl near it with her hands struggling to align the hairs that fell on her face due to the cold breeze. I walked to her bike, to her actually.
“Hey…” I shrilled.
She turned to face me. I stood still. It was her. It was NEHA. I saw her. I saw the bike. It had flat tire too. Luckily it was the front one. I saw her again. I turned back and walked few steps. I waited. I couldn’t hear any words from her. She was ADAMANT and ABRASIVE. I knew that. I turned back and walked the same few steps to her bike. Ten minutes. I fixed it. She threw a smile. It started to drizzle. Her smile lasted for few more seconds. I seldom cared. I went back to my bed beneath the tree. She followed me. I seldom cared. She sat next to me. I seldom cared. She took my head in her hands. I seldom cared. She placed it in her laps. She snuggled against me. Slowly I started to care. She then placed her lips over mine. It rained heavily. She kissed me. So did I. I cared. We kissed continuously. I cared wholeheartedly and completely.
It lasted for ten whole minutes, I guess. The kiss was ended only for me to see the bunch of people surrounding us. I was embarrassed. I didn’t want it to happen that way, in that place, amongst the strangers. It was my first kiss, my first kiss with my first love. I didn’t want it to happen that way. It doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. Gosh, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed each and every bit of the seconds when our lips were locked. I enjoyed each and every bit of her lips. Guess she did too. I was embarrassed though. She wasn’t. She wasn’t even after seeing the crowd surrounding us. She bothered to the least that she locked our lips again, this time not with my head in her laps but standing (in the middle of the strangers). This time she kissed more lovingly, more caringly, more affectionately, more thankfully and more rudely.
I woke up. My lips weren’t wet. I didn’t see anyone surrounding us. I didn’t see her. I didn’t see her bike either. But I did see my bike with flat tire resting in front of me. Fuck man. Why the hell did I dream of her, dream of her kissing me, when I did have hell of a lot to dream about? Fate had its hand on me time and again. My bike never left me stranded with flat tire anytime in the 2 years of its life with me. I loved it for that. But if I was sure of the kiss - not only from NEHA but from any cute girl(s), I would have badly cursed it like hell for that. But why did it do that that day? FATE may be.
I felt better when I thought that I had no glimmer of hope left in me rather than when I felt there was a glimmer of hope. But sadly, I always had a glimmer of hope that she would someday, by some means, come back to me. So I never felt better. I always had that glimmer of hope until she got married to some guy, surprisingly, not from U.S. but from somewhere in the neighboring state. Who cared? I cared.
I couldn’t tolerate her perturbing me not only in my dreams, but in every single place I went. She occupied my mind completely. I was worried. I wasn’t me. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be left alone. I left myself alone in the world that I created for me, only for me where she couldn’t enter, let alone perturb me. In my world, I badly wanted someone who could patiently listen to my woes, and comfort me caringly. I felt that someone was following me stealthily. He followed me wherever I went. He followed me to office, to beach, to sleep, to terrace, to there, to here. He fucking followed me to every fucking place I went, in every fucking activity I did.
As and when I turned back to see him, I could see no one. I pondered. I cogitated. I contemplated. To get rid of him, finally I crafted him. I gave him a figure. He was 6 foot tall, well built and handsome too. He had this scarf wrapped around his face that I couldn’t see it. I named him “hserus”. It is pronounced as se-rus (‘se’ as in ‘see’ and ‘rus’ as in ‘rust’). He liked the name for he always wanted me to address him by it.
From then, I myself took him wherever I went and whatever I did. So he wasn’t a silent privy follower anymore. I always bought him food when I bought for me. We always had our food together. I stopped going out with my friends for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner and for whatsoever I did with them. I had hserus with me for all those stuffs. I ate with him in our home – where I stayed with my friends. They started to see me differently. They thought I was crazy. I was demented. They weren’t wrong for I was. On seeing me with him, they concluded and named me a psycho. In their words, I was a-fucking-psycho. Heck, they used to see hell of a lot English movies. That helped them name me.
Because of their suspicious behavior, I stopped bringing him home anytime. I restricted him to late night dinners only unless some situation demanded him at other times. He enjoyed the late night dinners with me though he was sad and depressed for missing the breakfasts and lunches with me. I was equally enjoying the time with him as he was only one I had to blurt out my feelings, my sorrows, and my agonies. After listening to all my buncombe stuffs, he soothed me with his words, and that is all I wanted – that comfort and soothing. This made up my mind not to care about my friends calling me a psycho, a-fucking-psycho (for I knew I wasn’t). I didn’t want them to disturb me and hserus. We didn’t want them to get disturbed either. So I decided to move out of the home, move away from them.
I rented a room with an attached bathroom. Hell, it cost me 5000 bucks per month excluding the electricity and water charges. It was twice the amount I paid monthly when I stayed with my friends that included the electricity and water charges. I rented the room only for me, but stayed with hserus. We lived together for 3 months. In those heavenly times, I forgot NEHA. I forgot Neha, but not my love for her.
Those times with him were heavenly. I mean it for he took me to heaven, the real heaven. I latter found that it wasn’t heaven actually. Anyway, by then, it was the real heaven. It was the drugs that he bought me which took me to heaven. I didn’t know what and where he got it from. All I knew was it took me to heaven where I was not with NEHA and her memories. That was all I wanted. No matter I got it through the drugs. In fact nothing mattered once I teamed up with the drugs.
When I was alone I always saw her in front of me, close to me. The moment I sniffed my team mate, the countdown started. 10, 9, 8……3, 2, 1, and I started to fly. I flew. I flew higher. I flew even higher. I flew even higher that I could see NEHA, who stood erect before me, became a tiny particle. I flew further like a rocket that pierces the clouds in a fraction of seconds. Now I couldn’t even see her as a tiny particle. She became invisible. That was what I wanted. Thanks to the drugs for teaming up with me. Thanks to hserus for making the drugs to team up with me. I entered the whole new world, the HEAVEN. Anyone who teamed up with the drugs said so.
No Girls, No NEHA, No Worries, No Sorrows. I flew radically. Then I slept. I slept only to wake up next day to see hserus lying beside me and, of course NEHA before me. Oh my god, I had to team up with the drugs again. Hserus let almost all varieties of the drugs that he knew or that he got or that actually existed in my city, to team up with me. I didn’t know how and where he got those stuffs from. He never told me no matter how hard I asked, even when we weren’t in this world.
“You will no longer need me if I tell you about these. Better let it off the hook,” he spluttered. Also, He never let his face being seen by me, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how hard I pleaded. His scarf took the responsibility of safeguarding it always.
“Fuck you,” I replied as I hardly cared. Furthermore, he made me to travel to the heaven everyday without charging me a penny, and more importantly, he made me to deprive of NEHA at least till I fell back from the heaven. So why trouble him. My food expense doubled, though. That’s a different story.
One day when I was about to team up with a new variety, I cried to him asking the reason for NEHA to decline my proposal. I knew he couldn’t be possibly aware of it. But I wanted something as an answer.
“Man, may be because you are as lean as a pencil, and how will she accept you? You should have been me,” He chuckled showing his 8-packs.
That was it. I was done with him. I rose to anger. I threw his food away, and walked out of the room. I never talked to him again for few weeks despite his cry and apology. It was not because he teased me to hell. It was only because he thought my NEHA as a cheap girl who would go beyond the handsome 6-packers or 8-packers. Damn it. She didn’t and she never will. She is a gem of a girl. I still didn’t know the real reason for her to reject my proposal, but I was sure what hserus told as a reason would never be a reason even in her dreams, and even in my dreams.
In those few weeks, I sniffed my team mate and sloshed alone. It never happened in the past four months. I finally decided to deprive of him. I couldn’t tolerate his words for he was with me for the past four months and knew how I loved and cared her. He knew me and more than that he knew her from my words. Still he thought her so cheap. I could have forgotten his words and forgiven him had he talked any bad about me, but not about her.
It was one fine Sunday dawn, after giving a deep thought I stabbed him to death when he was lost in his sleep beside me. I badly wanted to look at his face. I badly wanted to unwrap that scarf. But I didn’t. Still wonder why. I took his body and threw it in the beach.
“Thanks, HSERUS. Thanks for everything and Sorry for everything too,” I shrilled on seeing his floating body. I never saw him again, not even his body. I thought his chapter was closed. But FATE had its hand on me still. He did return. It was incredulous. He visited me on my marriage. I married ANITHA and he did come for my wedding day without being invited, with a scarf covering his face, as always.
He had no gifts with him. He just hopped to the stage where I was standing beside ANITHA. He shook my hand firmly, and whispered, “You can never get rid of me despite you kill and throw me at any undiscoverable place in this earth unless I decide to get rid of you.”
He just whispered that and hopped down the stage. I called him back, with his name obviously as he liked it always.
“Hserus, so you are going to get rid of me, right?” I queried.
He simply winked at me.
“Please do so. And before you leave me forever, could you show me your face? Off the scarf, please,” I pleaded.
“Of course, I will, for you are the one who crafted me. I owe you at least this man,” He grinned and removed his scarf.
Oh Man, I had seen this face. I was used to it for 25 years. I had seen it in the mirror whenever I saw the mirror. It was none other than me. I fainted mentally.
I never told about my love to my parents, not even gave them any clue. I thought of taking her to them and introduce her as their daughter-in-law proudly. But she, my NEHA, had other plans and of course FATE too had other plans. Might be they both had the same. Given that, what I thought never happened. I didn’t want my parents to know about my failed love life. Had they known, they would have stumbled more than me. Still they would have made arrangements for my marriage saying the girl was better than my NEHA. I would have obviously rejected their proposal explaining them how better my NEHA was and howsoever the hell they try, they can’t find anyone same as her, let alone better than her.
I still remember the words I told my colleague, Mrs. SNEHA VISHNU- the only real soul other than me and my NEHA, who knew about my love. She was the only real listener who heeded to my words. Sadly she couldn’t help me either. I had quite a few questions to ask NEHA with an intention of knowing the answers at any cost. But I never asked her as I knew it would be difficult for her to face me, let alone answer me. I never wanted to trouble her howsoever I got troubled. So I never planned to ask her the questions straight, but I badly wanted to know the answers. I recited that to Mrs. SNEHA VISHNU. I told all the questions to her and requested her to do this favor of asking NEHA those on behalf of me. The saddest part is that she refused to put forth my questions to NEHA. Might be she didn’t want to lose her friendship which was indeed quite a point to consider. I seldom cared.
I shouldn’t have asked her. I knew I had lost my dignity by asking so. But I was helpless. I regret for that still. How can I expect someone to play my role when I myself couldn’t play it? Whatever, I owe hell of a lot to SNEHA. It was for her caring, her patience, and her advice (that I never heeded to, as in I couldn’t) I was able to manage my last few days in the bank where my NEHA was still working as Mrs. NEHA RAHUL.
“I loved her more than anything. If it’s true, I will do so forever. Damn, I knew I was true in my love. In that case how can I share it with someone else as my wife? That’s it. I won’t marry at all. There is hell of a lot in this world to care and spent time with. Forget it. Thanks for care,” I stammered in reply to SNEHA’s question about my future. I told the same lines to Mrs. NEHA RAHUL when she was Miss. NEHA, when I thought she would become Mrs. NEHA SURESH. SNEHA stood before me with NEHA’s wedding invitation in her hand. I never got NEHA’s invitation as I told her not to give me one. Thank god she at least heeded to these words. Might be because she knew it would be my last words to her. But I didn’t fail to have a glimpse over it. Thanks to SNEHA for leaving it on her desk.
“It’s not about the marriage only. What about your parents? Won’t they want to see their grand children? Won’t they want to see someone as your wife? You are after all their only child. Don’t torment them, please.” She pleaded. I always liked her whenever she pleaded for my sake, for my family sake. She was indeed a caring sister to me. It was because of her that I never felt I missed a sister.
“Don’t bother I will get them a grand-child,” I smirked.
“Idiot” she shrilled.
“Don’t get me wrong. I will adopt one, and if they want more, I will do another - a boy and a girl. How does it sound? Cool, doesn’t it?” I faltered trying to hide my tears. It was not just a timely answer. I meant it. I always had that in mind.
But FATE, time and again, had its hand on me. I had to marry ANITHA. She was a kissing kin of me. She was 24 when I was 25. She was chosen by mom. I had to marry her for two reasons. First and foremost, my parents’ woes, my mom’s in particular. It was for her childish face. I didn’t want her to pose an angry or worried look with it. Second, for ANITHA, for her character in particular. When my Mom decided to search a girl for me, I declined her saying some stupid reasons. Once I found I couldn’t stand to my decision anymore, I had to wave a green flag. But I told her that I would talk to the girl first, and if and only if everything fell in place, I will marry her.
My mom made all the arrangements for us to meet in her home. I didn’t want it to happen over there. I took her to a temple, of course after several hush-hushes among the people gathered in her home. I saw her. She was beautiful, way too beautiful for me, I thought. But it didn’t make my mind change. My Neha-filled mind and soul was more adamant than her beauty. I saw ANITHA. I saw NEHA standing behind her, then beside her, then in front of her and finally in her.
“Neha,” I said.
“What?” She mumbled.
I told her almost all the crap stuffs about my one-sided love for NEHA. Only almost all as I wanted her to find the rest all by herself, if only she is interested. She didn’t laugh. Neither did I. No one but FATE laughed. FATE still had its hand on me, this time along with ANITHA. She listened to all my words patiently without cutting me off anytime. I thought it will work on my favor. Sadly she teamed up with FATE, I suppose. She nodded her approval for our marriage. I hated her for that, even before loving her, even before knowing her.
I was indeed angry and frustrated as what I thought would happen didn’t happen. I hoped that she, after listening to all those crappy stuffs about me, would throw me to trash. She didn’t. Result – I was frustrated. I dreamed of meeting Mrs. SNEHA VISHNU and of course Mrs. NEHA RAHUL together. Both stood before me and guffawed at me. They screamed the lines that I told them. “How can I share it with someone else as my wife? That’s it. I won’t marry at all. There is hell of a lot in this world to care and spent time with. Forget it.” They repeated it continuously without getting tired. I was tired of hearing them screaming.
It was our first night together. She entered the room with the stuffs that people used to call as customs. I entered the room with a bunch of papers. She sat next to me, as I asked her to do so. I took her hands in mine and said, “Well, ANITHA. I still wonder what made you to nod for this marriage. I am not sure whether you will stand to it forever. Whatever, I need some time to change, more time indeed. I wasn’t even sure that I will change one day. I guess I will one day, hopefully. But before all that, please read this. I handed over the bunch of papers to her. I gave her “The Game of Chance” - The story which I penned when I was in love with NEHA, to depict my love to her. I never wrote any stories in my life till then. But my love for her made me a writer. It made me to write it with great passion. It came out really well. Even SNEHA, who was the only other soul that read it, sadly even before NEHA herself read it, said so. But not well enough to make NEHA’s mind meltable. Might be because she only read it after 4 months or so from the day I gave her.
Next day morning, I heard ANITHA’s voice that asked my mom to buy a bottle of ‘COMFORT’. Oh man! She was not the one whom I thought she would be. She seemed different, just as NEHA did when I saw her for the first time. I presumed that ‘The Game of Chance’ had its effect on her. For a moment I thought that if it went like that, I just need a ‘some-time’ rather than a ‘more-time’ to change.
It was in that story I did mention about the ‘COMFORT’. NEHA used it for her clothes. I too used it for my clothes, only after confirming that NEHA used it, though. Several days rolled by. ANITHA tried her best to please me. She indeed did so. I too tried my best to be a good husband, if not the best. Though at times, I thought her as NEHA. Only at times though. I swear.
One day when I was asked to take ANITHA to a temple located in the nearby town, she for the first time, opened her mind about me and NEHA. That was the first time she did in the past 3 months of our life together – virtually as a HUSBAND and WIFE, even after reading the story.
“Listen, I can’t be your NEHA, but I will try to be as much as I can. I will only try to be and will remain as ANITHA forever. I really feel bad for her to miss you, miss your love for her for the rest of her life. She must be harebrained to do so. I am not sure what made her to decline you. Anyway Thanks for her that I got you. All I want is your love for me - at least half of what you gave her. That’s more than enough for my life with you,” She spluttered seeing my face straight. Man she was bold, just as my NEHA, but not as adamant as her. There was a glimpse of pleading in her words. Her words sounded cinematic, no matter how emotional those were. She was very much interested in watching movies. That confirmed my assumption of her words being cinematic.
I sat still, trying to look away from her. I tried hardly. But then when I saw the cuteness, the childishness in her face, I hardly tried.
“And if you really want to be a musician, you can give it a whirl. I will support you in all you endeavor. I promise.” The story had its effect on her mind yet. Her words almost exasperated me. It didn’t actually. It rather caused quite a flutter in me. She didn’t know I only wanted to compose as many songs as possible for NEHA, only for her as I didn’t pen that in the story.
“Nope, I don’t. I never wanted to, as in I only wanted for her. It’s all but over. It’s just a finished book. Forget it.” I said facing her straight. Damn, that childish look still lasted on her face. I loved it. I badly wanted to kiss her for the first time.
“I know you can’t and I don’t want you to. You just start a new chapter with me in that so-called finished book. I don’t want it to be a finished book either,” She mumbled and kissed my forehead, and then my lips. I responded shrewdly. She forgot it was a temple. So did I. We forgot where we were. Thank god we were in a near-empty temple that day.
On our way back home, she questioned, “If you don’t mind, why you named the story as – The Game of Chance?
“Don’t know really. Might be because I lost my chance in the game of love,” I replied. I was ready to start penning a new chapter, of course with her, with ANITHA.
The chapter had to come to an end one day. I knew that though I never wanted it to. The end came last year. She died at the age of 73. I felt lonely. I felt isolated. It was the same feeling that I felt when NEHA left me. I still remember her last words.
“Suresh, she addressed me by my name as I demanded her to. I don’t know where I stand with you and I don’t know what I mean to you. But you mean a lot to me and will remain so forever wherever I go. Guess what, I still envy NEHA. Every time I see you and think of your love for her, I wish I was NEHA. I wish I was NEHA who had accepted your love. I knew how much you had cursed the God for not making you succeed in your love, but I always cherish him for giving you to me. I always prayed to him that I had to be reborn as NEHA in my next birth and you as the one who you are now, only to accept your love. I promise you, this NEHA won’t miss you again,” She stammered.
Man she was too weak to talk as she did before. Her words really stammered, but she was hell of a lot more strong to talk to me. Yes, I cursed God, not because I failed in my love as ANITHA thought. I believed in him when I was too young to think about his existence. Slowly as I grew, and as I saw people fighting in the name of him only to kill others in the name of religion, and as I saw people ill-treating others in the name of him, and as I saw people cheating fellow humans in the name of him, I decided to believe other way round. I waited for him to act against the people who spoiled his name. HE NEVER DID. His existence - It always remained an unanswered long-time question of me.
I decided not to trust him ever. Sometimes I cursed him too. But I wasn’t as in an atheist. I was more of an agnostic. All I believed was I did no harm to others, knowingly. Hence, I believed no harm would happen to me. But that didn’t stop me to stand before him whenever I was in need of something, whenever I wanted something to happen, and whenever I wanted something not to happen. Poor Anitha, She always thought I never believed him. She wasn’t even aware that I went to the temple for seven continuous Sunday only to pray for NEHA to accept my love.
Anitha even restricted herself from going to temples for the sake of me. But I took her at least once in two weeks for the sake of her. And she never failed to kiss me once we returned to our home. I swear I didn’t do it for her kiss although I knew I would get one when we get back to home. Also, she never kissed me in the temple again. She feared we won’t be lucky again to escape from being caught by the visitors. I was sure I made her happy.
After her stammered words, she took my hand in hers and dropped a photo in it. I glanced over it. It was her. It was NEHA. It was the photo which I took when we celebrated her 24th birthday at our office. I was nearing 24 by then. It was the photo which I threw in the trash can when I thought it to be in my purse as unlawful, when I actually began to consider ANITHA as my wife. NO MORE NEHA, NO MORE NEHA, ONLY ANITHA, MY ANITHA. I should have burnt it or at least torn it before throwing it in the trash can. I didn’t. I don’t know why. May be my love for her didn’t allow me to do so.
“You threw it away for my sake. Didn’t you? I preserved it for your sake. And Thanks a lot for the song. I know you would have had your NEHA in your mind while composing it, never mind, after all that is what I wanted. I simply loved it as it depicted the love you had for her,” She faltered. Yes, she loved it to the core else she wouldn’t have listened to it more than ten times every day.
The song was being played when she stammered those words to me, with her still holding my hand in hers. It played continuously in the repeat mode. It was her wish. She insisted that. She listened to it till her last breath. It was she, on her 50th birthday, asked me to compose one for her. I took it as a chance to depict my love for her, for my ANITHA. Poor Anitha, she never knew. She never knew that it was her, only her, whom I had in my mind, and in my soul while composing it and not NEHA as she had thought. I wanted to dedicate to her, only to her.
I badly wanted to elucidate her that it was not as she thought; the song was not for NEHA but for her. I didn’t as I didn’t want to oppose her as in to prove her wrong at her deathbed. Let the truth be as it was. The truth lasts forever. So do my ANITHA and my love for her.
She wanted me to be the last person she could see before closing her eyes, finally for one last time. She asked our son, his wife, our daughter, her husband and our grandchildren to leave the room. She kissed each and every one of them good bye. Damn, she proved time and again that she loved me more than our children. No wonder, she even did that at times when she thought I didn’t love her.
As she thought, I cursed God for making me fail in my love, but it was only until I found the real love in ANITHA. Ever since, I prayed to him that I should love and get married to ANITHA in my future births if it does exist. I wanted to say her. I didn’t. I didn’t until she snuffed it. She passed on in my hands. I was lucky to have her. She remained in me always way ahead of NEHA. I knew I wasn’t a better son to my parents. I knew I wasn’t a better brother to SNEHA that I never paid her a visit after my marriage. May be my marriage was the reason.
I arranged for a meet between ANITHA and SNEHA before my marriage once. After her time with SNEHA, Anitha told me that SNEHA was more than happy for me and her specifically. It wasn’t by blood relations, but still she was a sister to me. I should have known her whereabouts. I told this to ANITHA at her deathbed. I was flabbergasted by her reply. ANITHA had been meeting her once in a week or two without my knowledge. She added that SNEHA always told her not to say about their meet to me until I enquire about her. She and Anitha too thought I would prefer not meeting her. They were wrong. I always wanted to meet her, but restricted myself. Not because of my marriage, but only because I will come to know about the whereabouts of NEHA through her. That was the real fucking reason. I didn’t want NEHA to come between me and Anitha. Still I should have met her at least on account of ANITHA’s request at her deathbed to meet her once. I didn’t. That still haunts me. I hoped she was fine out there still. Given her caring for others, she will forever. So do NEHA, wherever she was.
I saw my family standing before me while I was lying in the same bed where my ANITHA slept forever almost a year ago. I saw each and every face that stood before me. My son – Ram, My daughter – Neha (It was solely on Anitha insistence, we named her NEHA) looked worried. I wasn’t. They both did a lot to us despite being our adopted children. Yes, we didn’t have our own children. That doesn’t mean we didn’t try. We tried. But FATE had its hand on me yet and unfortunately Anitha had to fall in the trap too. I wasn’t impotent. That doesn’t mean she was. We both weren’t. The reports told that. Yet we couldn’t have our own children. Fate, may be.
It was her who after several tests and reports suggested that we should adopt. I had no concerns over it. Anyway I was already made up my mind to adopt when NEHA left me. We did. Ram was 3 years old when we adopted him and a year later we did adopt Neha who was only a year old by then. We loved both. They too did. That was evident in the way they took care of us in our later days. I saw them. I will miss them. I will miss my dad and mom. I will miss Sneha.
I wanted Anitha to be the last face that I see before I close my eyes forever. It was almost over. I knew it. I leaped to the right and saw her smiling in the photo looking at me. May be she is ready to welcome me to her world. I too was ready. I closed my eyes. Silence… Silence… Silence everywhere. Then I heard the song – “My Love, Live forever”. It was her 50th birthday. I stood in front of her singing the song. She loved it. Result – few kisses, few long kisses.
I heard the song at a long distance. I ran closer towards the sound. I saw Anitha waiting for me at the doorstep. She took my hands. We both started dancing to the tune as we did on her 50th and every other birthday. My Love, Live forever….
I felt her hands in mine. I opened my eyes. She was standing in front me. No one was there, all my family members - No one but her. She opened her hand. It had NEHA’s photo in it. I closed my eyes. I felt cold. I felt few drops of tears rolling down my cheeks. Before I could read its path further, fingers of my ANITHA wiped it off. Oh My Anitha! My love, I’m on my way to you. “My Love, Live forever” is waiting for us to dance. Thank god (if he does exist), I'm finally snuffing it only to end up knowing the answer for my long-time question. Sadly, I’ll not be able to share that with the people here. May be one day they themselves will.
They say your whole life flashes before your eyes when you die. That's true.
