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SEPTEMBER, THE YEAR BEFORE

God! There isn’t even one place where we can be alone. Why do people have to follow us everywhere we got?” I said in frustration. It was getting on to me. We had searched the entire hall, but there was someone everywhere.

“I know! I wonder… Everybody seems to be interested in us,” she said, frustrated too.
“I know I am handsome. But that doesn’t mean girls and, now, even boys will hound me!” I boasted jokingly.
“Yes, yes, why not! Everybody is after you, Mr. Tom Cruise!” she said bantering.
“Please! Don’t compare him with me. I won’t stand such ribaldry. Anyway, I think we should rent a room in this hotel only. There we can be absolutely alone. We can talk and do anything,” I said jokingly.
“Wow! We two in one room when all our relatives are down here. What a brilliant idea! I am not your girlfriend, Tejas.” “If only you could be, didi.”
“What about those two chairs? Pretty secluded, I guess,” she said.
“I just hope nobody interrupts while I discourse or he’ll be blasted!”
“What if it’s a she?”
“Depends, didi, depends,” I said, stumped and we both laughed. “So tell the tale, Mr. Romeo.”
“Right away, didi, right away.”

And so I began to tell her the dilemmas that had been troubling me lately and who better to discuss them with, than her. Ria didi. The time to introduce her has come. Ria didi, my eldest sister, is the daughter of my youngest tayaji (uncle–father’s elder brother). I have three tayajis and my father is the youngest brother. She has been my closest friend for years now. She has been my confidante and agony aunt, the one to whom I turn to in times of trouble, specifically, troubles concerning the devilish species of girls.

So I turned to her once again for her pearls of wisdom at the moment of distress. Thank God, I could do it in person this time; for she was luckily here in India. I have the fortune of seeing her only once a year during her annual summer trip; and now I was glad I did not have resort to the lovely but extremely slow correspondence through letters. In a world that has moved on from snail-mail to hotmail and what-not-mail we still prefer to compose long loving letters to each other. For it is joy to find her envelope with the unfamiliar but curious postage stamp nesting in my letter-box, bearing my name crafted in her hand. And, what joy it is, indeed, to tear open the envelop excitedly but carefully… taking out the fragrance of fond memories. She landed a couple of days back. I was there to receive her. We had hugged each other warmly and I had intimated her of my predicament while she was buying her safe mineral water from the IGI Airport lounge.

“ Didi!” I had exclaimed, “Your brother is in a soup.”
“Girls?” she had asked and I had nodded meekly.
“Tell me all, sweets,” she had remarked and it was only now, in an obscure cousin’s wedding, that we had found an opportunity to talk freely, without my dear sisters – Sneha and Palak – hovering around us. They had some exams.
“There’s a problem, didi. I like a girl.”
“I don’t see any problem with that unless the girl thinks that you are a rotten egg.”
“No, that’s not the case, didi.”
“Don’t tell me you have finally managed to find a girl foolish enough to like you.”
“Maybe.”
“So that’s the problem. You are not sure the traffic is two way?” “That is just the tip of the iceberg, didi. Water’s deeper, much deeper,” I said, repeating like a philosopher.
“So will you fire away at once or continue to stare at the floor, Mr. Manoj Kumar?” I looked up.
“You remember Gayatri?”
“Of course, I do, the unfortunate girl of Verma uncle who lost her life in an accident? Extremely sad…” I must have leapt a foot or two on hearing that. after all, I had met her just week before in the neighbourhood café. Didi said it in a manner so offhand that it took its toll on me. It seemed like a slap in the middle of a sound sleep. I had liked the girl, and she was a rather nice person. My mind went blank. I hardly noticed that the cutlet I had been chewing so meticulously, deriving joy from every bite, was no longer in my mouth. I had heard a thud, I thought.
“When did that happen?” was all I could utter.
“Why, you only told me lat month?” she answered puzzled. “I did?” Yes, when we talked on phone.”
“Oh! Then it dawned on me. It was a monumental communication error. “My God! I said Gayatri’s dog lost life!” I said with relief. And disbelief. A word out of place can cause havoc.
“Oh! The phone lines weren’t clear. I am sorry. A gross mistake.”

I let out a breath. Thank God, she was alive. There was didi, munching cutlets coolly, as if nothing at all had happened. As I regained my sense, now that the gentle soul was alive, I discovered my lost cutlet. There it was, perched comfortably at the bottom of my coke glass emitting bubbles. So that what the thud was about.

I told her to be a little more considerate before uttering such shockers. She said she would be and told me, “But really, your voice wasn’t clear and besides, you sounded pretty cool and happy that day. I myself was astounded by your attitude. Hence my casualness in mentioning the casualty.”

“Oh, happy I was! Happy to be free after all, because that Rahul of hers had bitten my butt a hundred times and, in a benevolent mood, had liked my face like a mop on the floor.”
“Rahul?”
“Yes, Rahul, the same grotesque dog.”
“She named that dog Rahul!” she said, wondering at the ways of the world. Strange indeed, I agree.
“Yes, she did. Apparently Rahul had been Gayatri’s crush since LKG who left the school one fine day.”
“Sad!”
“extremely sad! Hence the name Rahul. In memory of the departed.”
“Change your name, Tejas!”
“Why?”
“She will be al yours!” she said and we laughed heartily. “So, what about Gayatri?” she inquired.
“You know she is pretty, didi. She was shaken after the loss sand found comfort in me…”
“Hmm, so you exploited the age old Rule One of the ho-to-win-agirl theory.”
“Absolutely, hit the iron when it’s hot. Whip the girl’s tears and she is all yours.”
“Wow, brother! You too! All boys are the same!”
“No, didi, you know what that I won’t play with anyone’s heart. Precisely the reason why I chat with you.”
“Fine, go on.”
“So… she has started liking me a lot and I am sure about it.” “Just a moment back you were not sure about it.”
“Oh! That was not for her, didi. That’s the whole problem. Where it gets a trifle too intricate for a nut like me.”
She raised her eyebrows and said, “Why don’t you say everything clearly, then? You tell it all with an unnecessary air of suspense. Now clear the muddle for me.”
“I am trying, didi. But it is so damn heavy, too many details.” “I think you are compounding the situation yourself. As far as I remember you were nuts about this girl and when you have got the breakthrough… through a chance of, pardon me, funny misfortune, you behave queerly. And now if you are thinking about another girl, as I gather you are, you are just being stupid. The more you’ll look, the prettier others girls will seem. Stop behaving like a child. You like her and she likes you. The case is dismissed. You guys are never satisfied,” she thundered.

In wake of this attack, I lost completely what I had to tell didi. I began to appreciate the truth in her words and wondered why I was having this conference at all, when I realized that I had not yet completed the story. And suddenly it came back to me.

“No, the case has only just begun, didi; please show some patience. You draw conclusions so hastily,” I thundered back, “What a while.”
“Fine, sir,” she surrendered.
“So where was I? Ye, true, that I used to like Gayatri, but I am not sure about her. The problem is that I really like another girl,” I said in one breath.
“So what’s the problem?”
“She is some two thousand kilometers away.”
“What! How do you manage all this, Tejas? You can’t do a normal thing in the world but pull off such unfathomable… you sure are amazing. Now who is she?”
“Shreya Bhargava.”
“Wow, what a way to tell,” she laughed. “Won’t you add her dad’s name too? I am not asking you for the name of the seventeenth president of Mozambique, idiot. Just say Shreya, dumbo,” she continued to laugh. These sisters really pull your leg well. “Yes, so Shreya she is.”
“Who is she? Some achool-mate?”
“No, Palak’s friend.” She was stunned.
“Way to go! That’s something! Now eyeing your sister’s friends… Not bad,” she added teasingly.
“She is really great, didi.”
“Now don’t blush brother,” she taunted and then suddenly as if stung by a bee added, “Wait a minute. How is she, then, two and a whatever kilometers away? How did you meet her?”

Well, it wouldn’t be of use to add most of our subsequent conversation. I have already told you all that and in detail. Our first meeting. I told her everything gleefully and that solved some of her doubts. It would be convenient if you join the conference her. Right here.

“What guts, Tejas!” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. She had been fed a tad too much and I could see it was getting heavy for her. I allowed her a breath.
“Anyways, good move to obtain her mailing address. So did you use it?”
“Obviously. We started mailing each other once a week or so. Normal, friendly, harmless mails. Discussing the usual: movie, music, books… just the extension of our conversation that day. It took us no time to discover that we had similar tastes. Very similar.”
“Cool! Go on.”
“Yes, so… gradually the frequency of mails increased and so did the number of similarities. I mean, I was myself amazed. This is what drew me most towards her.”
“Will you tell me some of them? Don’t tell me something like… both of you realized that you had two ears, two eyes…” We both laughed again and I added:
“Of course, not. In fact, our anatomies are very different face down. Like I don’t have…”
“Shut up,” she intervened in time. Laughter, again. “Tell me something substantial,” she asked, like the expert must. “So yes, like… we both like similar kind of movies and music. Both not-partying types. Both love simple things; hate anything loud and cheap. And then, yes, she is pretty close to her family like me… a homely girl.”
“Wow, my homely boy!” I blushed.
“Stop making fun, so yes… our outlook on most subjects is quite similar. Pretty conservative and sentimental.”
“Don’t tell me you discussed moral issues.”
“We did, didi. She was impressed. “You’ll say we are crazy if I tell you we discussed things like empowerment of women, role of women in our society, neglect of parents and the elderly, illiteracy and population, rapidly eroding traditional values, proliferation of drugs, confused, materialistic youth. We even planned to open a school for poor…”
“Enough. Fine, I get it,” she hastily interrupted unable to tolerate anymore. “Seems preety interesting. So the girl knows you are crazy and still bears you.”
“Yes! And she is so nice. It is fascinating to discuss all this with someone. I mean… I have this habit of lecturing, you know, but nobody is ever interested, and here is a girl who is not just listening but complementing me so well. Of course, we have other trivial similarities like enjoying romantic and arty, ice creams chocolates – without nuts, pastries, popcorns, bhutta… But the thing that bowled me over was our similar emotional quotient. She is a very nice girl, the kind you rarely find nowadays. Simple. Not one who’ll colour her hair or get funny piercings or get a tattoo or flaunt her legs or smoke or party… She is so different… I had to fall for her,” I astounded myself by going on and on, “I was already smitten by her beauty and that she was so much like how I wanted my girl to be just finished me. She is like Sneha and Palak. Who’d be just the right blend of modern and traditional – who’d be dressed so gracefully and not follow the fashion trends blindly – who’d like to dance and all but prefer dinners by the candlelight – who’d like to dance and all but prefer dinners by the candlelight – who’d be progressive, but would not hesitate to lend her mother a hand in the kitchen.”
“Tejas, you are gone,” didi interrupted again.
the same sort of movies – – chocolate and strawberry, I knew I was gone. I couldn’t believe that a girl could have that kind of effect. She was all I had thought for over a month now. I didn’t know if it really was love or not but one thing was sure, I liked her, a lot. And I had never been so close to any girl, except, of course, my sisters.

My didi lovingly stroked my hair, and looked into my eyes and said, “So you are in love.”
“So it seems.”
“Hmm, so what is the problem now? Why are you thinking at all about Gayatri?”
“I told you, Shreya is so far away. Don’t know when we’ll meet if at all we do. It’ll be really difficult. And besides, I am not sure she likes me.”
“Hmm, of course she likes you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have had such discussions. But the problem may be that she likes you purely as a friend. Girls do the often. Boys always look for the romantic angle though. But girls can just be very good friends. Boys take the wrong tip then.” ”I know. That’s another problem. So the dilemma is that I have a girl in the neighbourhood who likes me and I sort of like her. And then there’s a girl, farther than most neighbouring nations, about whom I am absolutely crazy but don’t know her position. And I have no one but you to solve it.”
“What puzzle is being solved? Let me see too,” said a heavy voice from behind. Dad was standing right there.
“Nothing, papa.”
“So let’s move home, did you have food?”

We replied in positive although didi had just one cutlet and I couldn’t even manage that. to hell with food. I thought. We’d go home and eat Maggi noodles at night. Lovely it is to stay up all night and talk, and visit the kitchen to cook Maggi together. We got up.