C4 Chapter 4

January, 2021

For a long time now, I had wanted to ask her the question.

Again. I had already asked once before. I had preparing myself

for days now. “I have to ask her again,” a part of me said to

myself, “I cannot let her play with my heart any longer.” But then

another voice shouted from inside me, “You moron, it’s been only

three months since you last asked the question. Don’t be hasty

again.”

These conflicts are the worst. These voices, they fight like

unruly street boxers ad in the end leave you at sea, for no one

wins. But then however much ambivalent you might be, you have

to decide on something. You’ve got to play the referee and, after

twelve good rounds raise one voice’s hand, forgive me for being

abstract, and slip a garland around its neck.

I decided that I would ask her again. I was nervous as hell.

She messaged me at about one in the noon that she’d call me

after she got back home from college, that is, at around three. I

visited the loo an absurd number of times. That, my readers,

elucidates best the kind of effect a girl produces on a boy. And, in

our case, a boy endowed with courage of no small measure. You

must have gathered as much from the facts of the previous

chapters. You must have silently appreciated my guts and said to

yourself, “Boy! He is fearless,” and now you must be let down by

my attitude. Well, all I can say is: have faith in my audacity. Even

the bravest of souls totter sometimes. I bet that Hitler, himself,

would have gone weak in his keens, faced with such a daunting

task.

Bertram Wooster would have gulped in one of the famous

Jeeves potions at a time as stressful as this. But I had no Jeeves

by my side and am not much of an ethanol consumer. Nut the

occasion demanded some. So I went to my refrigerator and took

out a two- litre bottle of Coke. I poured it into one of my father’s

beer mugs which I sometimes use for cold coffee. I added some

lime and drank my preparation just as Wooster drank Jeeves’s to

soothe his nerves before any enormous task. Coke, I am told, has

caffeine; so it is bound to calm you down. It was the closest thing

to vodka or rum that was available.

I glanced at the clock after each second. I walked up and

down my room nervously, time and again felt a strange sensation

in my stomach again and kept visiting the loo. This went on till

three. I finished the entire bottle of Coke between these visits.

But it did no good.

All this while, memory of the last time kept coming back to

me. What if I get a “No!” again? I comforted myself by arguing

that this time around things were better and surer. But hadn’t I

thought the same the last time too? Boy! That had been a painful

night. I still remembered vividly the kind of effect it had on me.

It is worth recounting the story to you all. And I will begin

from the beginning this time. It is high time I told you about

myself more, about how my romance started.

Now that we’ve arrived to this point in the narrative where I

must unfold before you a most unique episode, I must tell you all,

my readers, that I was once a sceptic, a ridiculer of this thing

called Fate. You may prefer to call it destiny or kismet or

coincidence but since the mentioned episode I have known this

entity as Mr. Fats. Though guiding my life since birth and, no

doubt, yours, his movements were all but obscure to my eyes,

until he chose to show up and how!

Now, lie back, all you lovers and let your mind slip back to

that fortunate accident, that ingenious stroke of fortune which

enabled you to meet your love. I do not talk about the moment

you fell in love; no, I talk about the accident, that singular

coincidence, when he or she, not yet your love bumped into your

life. Now, forgive me, I ask you all to delete that incident from

your life, though from it hinges your entire life, it is a scenario you

shudder to contemplate, but do it; what remains is am also

parantha without aloo.

So it was that Mr. Fate had planned a similar accident for me

and had it been absent, no doubt, you would not be reading this

book and I would still be a sceptic. But now a believer, as I

continue the story, I urge you to become a believer too in the

strange workings of Mr. Fate – destiny, kismet, coincidence et al –

in whose hands we are mere puppets.

It was the eve of my birthday, I distinctly recall. Vineet, my

dearest brother, was here on a vacation from U.S., along with our

bhabhi (not Vineet’s wife) and it was going to be a grand

birthday, what with their presence gracing the event after a long

time. Although a character of significance in this story and my life,

my brother has only a guest appearance here and I will talk about

him in detail later.

We were planning the morrow after my classes at bhabhi’s

place when she suggested going to a movie.

And, now, I shudder to contemplate the scenario if she

hadn’t done so. Would someone else have? If not, then how would

I have met Shreya? There are other ifs and buts – the cinema

halls could have been different, the show timings…what not…

That it was meant to be is all that comes to my lips.

And so it was that bhabhi uttered:

“Let’s watch a movie tomorrow. Is that SRK starrer out?”

“Yes; it is good, I have heard,” I said.

“Great, we’ll watch the eleven o’clock show and then head

towards your home to celebrate your birthday with Chachi’s

yummy cakes.”

My mom is famous for them.

“Tejas, cal Palak and ask her if she can come tomorrow; it’ll be

fun if all kids get together. But Sneha will have school, I guess,”

said bhabhi. If all kids get

“Yes, Sneha won’t be able to come, but I’ll ask Palak right away.”

Time to start the introductions, I guess. Sneha and Palak are

my younger sisters, and if you are curious about the whole real

sister and cousin sister thing which interests me the least, you’ll

say that Palak is my cousin and that Sneha is the real one. For me

both are sisters, dear and loving. We are of the same age group

being born within two years of each other. As with all sisters, they

are hugely possessive and do not approve of my uncivilized habits

and frivolous nature. Their ultimate aim remains to tame me into

a presentable young man. A pursuit which has borne no fruit and

that despairs them most along with my mom and my didi, Ria didi,

who is another cousin sister, the only one older and seven years

that. There’ll be more on her later. A lot more.

So I called up Palak without wasting any time. She had been

at odds with me and Vineet lately because we were spending

most of our time roaming here and there, and not with her at

home. And well, God save a brother when his sis has drawn the

sword.

“Hi sis! College over!”

“Yes, I just entered home. And you must be enjoying yourself,”

she said with sarcasm.

“Of course, you know I enjoy myself everywhere.”

“Blah-blah… People like you and your brother, who have no other

work in life but to hop from one place to another…”

“Like a cat on a tin roof…

“What?”

“Nothing, an English saying you may not be aware of. What was it

that you were saying, dearest sis? That Vineet and me, who have

no other work in life…”

“…always enjoy. At least you think you do. Mad nomads,” she

said, mocking.

“You mind that? and don’t you be jealous.”

“Please, jealous and me? I am enjoying break from you two. Stay

there as long as possible and relieve me from the stress.”

“But sis, so unfortunate, that we have to meet tomorrow again,

for my birthday.”

“I know, even I was getting depressed thinking about that.

anyways, I treat it as a part of life. Sorrow follows joy. But joy

will follow soon. But yes, I am excited about tomorrow…”

“Precisely! You should be. After all, it is your dearest brother’s

birthday and it calls for all the zeal you can muster. So, good! But

let me increase your excitement a million fold by I informing you

that tomorrow we all are going for your favourite Khan’s “Kuch

Nahi Hota Hai”. We’ll pick you from home…”

“Excuse me. First of all, how did you get in that thick head of

yours that you are my dearest brother? Sorry to dispel all your

illusions for the millionth time; you are not,” she thundered. I

could sense that her mood was such that she could break my neck

and not feel sorry about it. I thanked God I wasn’t in her vicinity,

“And sorry, again, to tell you that I an already gong for that

movie. And not with you all. That is what I was alluding to when I

said I am excited about tomorrow.”

“What? Now with whom are you going for the movie! Got a

boyfriend?” I bantered.

“None of your business that, but tomorrow I am going with my

friends.”

“Wow! What preposterous planning is that,” I said in anger, “You

can go with your stupid friends anytime, sis. It’s my birthday.

Tomorrow all of us are going. So, you have to come and I won’t

take no for an answer,” I ordered.

“Well, that is what you’ll get from me. A flat no. and don’t you call

my friends stupid.”

“But you can go with your highly intellectual friends later. Who

can be more special to you than your brother?” I asked

emotionally.

“Well as a matter of fact anyone would be. But yes, my best friend

is here after a long time and so I got to meet her, and we all just

planned a movie.”

“May I ask which one of your best friend is this now? You change

them as frequently as one changes socks. Is she someone I know

of or have you got a new one again? Girls, the funniest creatures.”

Now I was getting hot too and I decided to take her on.

“Shut up! I am talking about Shreya. My school friend.”

“Oh, the same girl that went off to Chennai? Leaving her best

friend here, alone,” I said agitated. Inwardly I cursed her friend.

How idiotic of her to come to Delhi and meet my sister on the

same day that she should be with me. All of us were going

together for a movie after such a long time. And this girl had to

ruin the celebration.

“Shut up and bye,” She raged.

“Fine, bye. But just an advice: You better go to the movie with me

than hop around with pseudo friends.”

“But I am going to do exactly that.”

“Fine, I said angry but saddened.

“Bye…”

“Arre, wait a second. You are, you’re not coming? We’ll not book

your ticket.”

“Yes, I have my ticket in my hand.”

“So which theatre and show?”

“At the Grand. Eleven AM show.”

Jumped out of the sofa on hearing that. We were going for

the same show which completes the accident. But Mr. Fate’s job

over, it is a man’s duty to do his work and so I did. I tried to recall

what Shreya looked like. She was pretty, if I had placed her right

in my head.

“Wow, we are going for the same show. How fortunate!”

“Most unfortunate. Don’t you dare speak to me there. It’ll be

ignominious for me if my friends see that I have a cauliflower like

you a my brother.”

“On the contrary. It’ll be most honourable. I can see your friends

talking to you – “Your brother! How charming!! Can I have his

number?”

“Yes, why not! Don’t dream; get a mirror if you haven’t got one.”

“By the way, how many of you are going? Someone pretty?”

“Four of us. And what will you do if someone is pretty?”

“Change parties. I’ll entertain you and your dearest friends.”

“Thanks. But we are better off alone.”

“Your wish. By the way, is Shreya the one whose picture you

showed me last time?”

“Yes. So?

“She seems interesting,” I said full of hope and joy.

“Tejas, don’t you get ideas. If you come up and speak to me

there, I’ll kill you.”

“I will not talk to you, of course. Shreya will be enough. So don’t

be bothered.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“You know me, sis, I will”

“Good, make a fool o yourself in front of them. Your wish. Besides

she has a boyfriend. So no hopes, Romeo.”

“Well, not a worry for me, they come and go, boyfriends…

Yesterday he,

Tomorrow me,

Day after I don’t care

If she has any.

Sounds like a poem! Wow, I can speak in verse, sister. Wonder

what Shakespeare would have said about that.”

“Shut up! I’ll warn my friends about you – what a flirt you are.”

“Do that. bye for now, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, but behave yourself tomorrow.”

“Let us see.”

“Tejas, hurry up!” shouted bhabhi.

“Coming,” I shouted from inside the loo.

“Even girls don’t take that long to get read. What’s taking you so

long?”

“Just a minute!”

I looked one last time in the mirror. And see my hair one lat

time with my hand. Boys like me don’t fancy combs. I should have

had a hair cut last week, I thought, when mother was after my life

and had threatened to chop my mop while I was sleep. I had

wisely slept with my door bolted for the entire week. How I

wished I had listened to her; for once she was right.

She is always too finicky about my hair and length and if she

has her way, she will soak my hair in a gallon of oil and then comb

them back, firmly adhered to my scalp, and then proudly

announce me as her ‘babu beta’ or in simple terms her innocent,

smart and ideal son. A typical Indian mother. An I, who have

grown up admiring the dishevelled mane of Paul McCartney and

co., naturally suffer irreconcilable differences with her on all hair

related subjects, which have threatened to disturb the peace of

our home, time after time.

But, today there was no doubt about it. She was right.

Blessed are the soul who say ‘listen to your mother’, I thought.

The more I looked, the more I felt like Conan, the famous

barbarian. Anyways, I gave up shaping the superfluous mass into

something remotely civilized. As dad says, one has to do the best

with what one has. I gave one last fleeting glance at the other

parts of my face which I had forgotten in the wake of the hair

crisis. I had three pimples on my nose. Bloody hell! Hardly the

sort of thing that cheers an already blighted soul. What a birthday

gift that was! I was wondering at the injustice of God, when,

again, shouts came from everywhere. I shot out of the bathroom

that very instant

A step out in the sun was just what the doctor would have

ordered for me. As I inhales the fresh breeze I could feel my woes

fading away and a balmy feeling abounding me. I looked up. The

sky was blue, absolutely blue and there was not a spot to be seen.

The whole canvas was lit up by a splendid sun. Just the sort that

brightens up your soul on a winter day. Sunny winter mornings,

wow! It was the kind of morning when a bloke after stepping out

in his pyjamas, stretches his arms, yawns and mumbles to

himself, “Ahaaaa”. And I did as much.

The vivacious ambience struck the right chord and sent a

signal to the brain which sent a song to my lips. It was no more

than a reflex. ‘Summer of 69’. Though hardly what you’ll call a

summer, the song suited the spirit. The air resonated and sang

along with me. I wished that I could play my guitar. So I moved

to the car with a hip and a hop. My mind was lit up with the

prospects of the morning.

The movie theatre was a half-an-hour drive from home and

we reached well before time. The attendance in the morning show

is thin and the moment we landed, I could see Palak with two

friends. The others spotted her too and our group moved towards

hers. I finally saw her friends clearly. Shreya was missing. Palak

wished me ‘Happy Birthday’ again, this time in person.

Preliminary introductions revealed that the two girls were Shreya

and Kamna. Palak eyed me with the dare-you-flirt look. But I

wasn’t interested. Period.

“Almost half an hour to go, why don’t we all\ grab a bite?”

someone asked. I was too lost to notice.

“Palak, why don’t you join us?” asked bhabhi I believe.

“No, not yet, bhabhi. One of my friends is yet to come. So we’ll

wait outside. We’ll join you when she’s there,” Palak replied.

“Shreya is always late,” complained Saumya of Kamna.

I glanced at my watch. There was about half an hour to go.;

more if you take into account the advertisements and all. Plenty

of time to play around! While entering the food court, I could

almost have shouted, “Brilliant!” as my mind gave finishing

touches to my plan.

I excused myself out of the group. “I am not hungry, bhabhi.

I’ll look at the magazines and enjoy the sun for a while.” No one

complained. “Bhabhi, give me you mobile; Vineet, give me a

missed call when you are through,” I said. Back then I didn’t have

a mobile. Bhabhi’s mobile was of strategic importance as she had

acquired a new sim-card and I was sure no one had her number.

I avoided the path where Palak stood, still waiting. I was

relieved. I chose a vantage point and dialed the number. My heart

was full of mirth. It was a lovely morning and I was doing what I

like to do the most. Playing Mr. Holmes. Disguising,

impersonating, plotting, conning…

“Hullo! Said a sweet voice.

“Hullo!” I changed my voice to a gruff one and drew immense

satisfaction with what I sounded. “Is that Palak?”

“Yes.”

“Beta, I am Shreya’s dad. I had some work, so she got late. Sorry

for that. she just with the driver and will reach in ten-fifteen

minutes.”

“Oh, namaste uncle! No problem.”

“Namaste beta. That main road leading to the hall has a jam. So

she’ll come via another. She told me to inform you to wait at the

back entrance.”

“Okay, uncle.”