℘

It was four in the morning and the nerve-shattering episode had, in addition, shattered any hopes of getting sleep. The train had begun to rattle ad sway again, and after about a hundredth attempt to sleep again, I gave it up. I cooed to my friend on the berth beneath, “Are you asleep?”

“Yes, I am !” he said, an d I appreciated his sense of humour. The guy had earlier seemed to me hopeless.
“Mind some gupshup?”
“Not a bad idea, sleep id off on a holiday, it seems,” he replied. I was surprised. I had expected a why-take-achance.

I hopped down while he put light on. I must say, I expected to see a fat, droopy-eyed seth; after all, he had behaved in such a chicken-hearted manner. Practical, some of you might say, but to me chicken-hearted. But what I saw wa a pleasant surprise. Here was a man, smart and sophisticated dressed in impeccable clothes. He seemed to be in his late twenties, and had on air of eing well-read. We shook hands. He was surprised to see me too. Perhaps, he had expected a man, by which I mean somebody older, but what greeted him, was a boy.

“Hi,” I said.
”Hi,” he said.
“Hope I didn’t bother you much! I have this habit of speaking bordering on the excessive, but it helps one to keep smiling…” “Hmm, you are quite a talker. You had the nerve to joke around in those tense moments…”
“Oh, well, I also believe in always keeping others smiling. Humour is important; besides, it was essential to joke then, or the nerves would have burst!”
“But it could have attracted danger, my friend.”
“You really believe in ghosts?”
“Attracted danger, as in any one, those outlaws for instance. Better safe than sorry!”
“True,” I said, “But what is gone is. Now, all’s well with the world.”
“By the way, I am Rajit, Rajit Ahuja!”
“I am Bond,” I laughed, No, no poor jokes, I am Tejas Narula.” “So what are you dong…as in studies… college?”
“I am doing engineering from IIT Delhi,” I said proudly.

Suddenly his eyes lit up and his face beamed. I had known the effect of the name of my college, but never had it made someone so plump with joy. His face gave a look of a proud father, whose son had just got into IIT.

“Unbelievable,” he said, excited and that disappointed me. I mean, I know I don’t have a studious face, nor do I sport thick spectacles. Yet, one ought not to mock right on face. But I took it sportingly.
“I know, I don’t look like one from the prestigious institute…” “Oh, no, it is not that, yaar,” he was opening up. This was the first time he had said yaar and his forthcoming words told why “I too am from IIT,” he said, and looked at me like a long lost brother.

It is a thing well documented about IITians, that when two of the same species meet, no matter in which year they passed out, or from which of the seven great institutions, they look upon each other as long lost brothers. The eye is one of affection and heart of warmth our fraternity is a cohesive one, it is said, and it can’t be truer.

Presently my eyes lit up, and my face beamed. I looked at the other with new found fondness. He told me he was from IIT Bombay, passed out a good four years back, then enriched his curriculum vitae with a degree from IIM Bangalore, as so many IITians do, and was now employed with Daimler Chrysler, the Mercedes Company, in Pune.

“So what are your carrier plans,” he asked, “MBA?” “The last thing I want to do, no offence, but I find it boring and too damn trivial,” I said with the air of a CEO.
“Oh! You are right in a way, but one needs it for the brand name!” “I know! Too sad that time has come to this, when humans are branded, labeled, tagged… feels like one is talking about underwears!”
“Underwears?”
“Say jeans…”
“Better! True, but one can’t help it,” he said smiling.
“You know what, there are so few people in IIT itself the greatest institution supposedly, who study for knowledge, or get happiness out of it; most are just biding their time, waiting for their label, so that they can move on to the next one!” “Which was true in our time too; to each his own though!” he said.
“Anyways, enough about boring careers, what takes you to Chennai?”

He smiled slightly. He blushed a little. There was an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes and I got it. Something to do with love. these are unmistakable signs. And I was not wrong.

“I’m getting married, yaar.”
“Well, congrats!’ I said sincerely, “Love or arranged?” I asked – the first question that pops into the mind, when one talks about marriage.
“You won’t believe it, yaar, my story! It is a one in a million case.” I frowned.
“Don’t tell me you are marrying a boy!”
“No, come on!”
“Thank God, I just asked. you said one in a million, these days such things happen, you see.”
“No, no, I said in relation to love and arranged.”
“Then, tell all,”
“You know what; Nivedita and I were at school together. Nivedita, that’s her.”
“I thought as much, go on.”
“My dad got transferred to Chennai, when I was in eleventh, and we fell in love.”
“Great, it had been long!”
“Nine years!”
“So… when did you break it to your parents?”
“That it the most amazing part, yaar. Makes you believe that there is a God. I raised an eyebrow, just one. “You know what, she is a south Indian. And her dad is a professor at IIT Madras.” “Good… he must be impressed by you.”
“No, no… nothing of that sort. He is conservative like hell, and wouldn’t have allowed Nivedita to have a love marriage. IITian or with anybody else. He comes from a school that says – Love is a pest.
And papa knows best.”
“Then?” I asked, interested. He had all my attention. His case was not dissimilar to mine, and was having a happy ending. I wanted to know it all. “You won’t believe it, just when she and I were wondering how to put it across to him, a marriage proposal came to my house.”
“Then? You surely tore it off!”
“Exactly, that was my first impulse. I told mom I’ll have nothing to do with proposals. I hate them.”
“So do I.”
“So I told her to tear the photo, but she somehow convinced me that the girl was beautiful, and deserved a look.”
“You had it? No harm in looking at pretty faces…”
“Exactly, I thought, might as well look at a pretty girl…” “Yes, then?”
“The roof fell over my head, and the ground escaped from beneath it was her.”
“Who?”
“Nivedita!”
“What?”
“Yes,” he said, and I sank into the seat like a boneless mammal. I understood, now, why he had said one in million. Make it one in a billion. Add it to wonders of the world list. Christen him the luckiest man on this planet. I shuddered to compare my life with his. Son of fortune, he sure was. A thought that often comes to my mind, when witnessing love stories other than mine, flitted in again – if only my life was so uncomplicated.
“What happened to you, Tejas? All well?” he asked, seeing me droop like that.
“Her parents never came to know about it, for nine whole years?” I asked incredulously.
“No, we played really safe, and we don’t intend to tell him even now. Wonder how he’ll react! Why take a chance?”

The man had proven his theories of life in an exemplary fashion. It was as solid a proof as the one given by Mr. Newton about something called gravity, when he let an apple fall. Whytake-c-chance motto was a hit surely, and I wouldn’t wonder, if in a short time, hordes of children come out on the streets, singing the slogan. It would certainly become a rage. I felt bad, thinking how I had made fun of this genius of a man, and his ingenious motto, chicken-hearted he might be, but it had served him well. I looked at him with a new found respect. He had evaded the attention of his future father-in-law for nine years, and I had barely managed two. I was just a minion compared to him.

“Will you mind telling me what happened?” he asked again, “You seem to be suffering from jaundice, all of a sudden.” He had put it well for my face had been robbed of its colour. I mustered all my courage to speak.
“Do you know why I am going to Chennai?”
“I am not much of a face reader!”
“Then let me tell you, you’d be glad to know that my story is very similar to yours, except that there is one major different – Her dad knows, and I blame it all on you. If only you had met me before, oh the wise one! If only…”

And I told him all, as I have told it all to so many others. I also told him how much I appreciated his why-take-achance motto, but how I was incapable of following it. I was too impulsive to not take a chance. He empathised with me.

Said he understood my pain and position, but told me again that I was taking another chance in going to meet my beloved. He added that it was worth it, now that her father knew, as he won’t let her meet me otherwise.

He told me to be careful. I assured him I wouldn’t take a chance once here, and he was happy. “That’s the way to go,” he said. He also said like so many others had, “You really love her, man!” ands coming from a veteran like him, one whose relationship had lasted a solid nine years, and would go on forever, no doubt, it was an honour and I smiled meekly.

“You must come to the wedding, Tejas, obviously, if you can spare time from your dates,” he said.
“Oh, I definitely will, I’ll meet her only during the day. You must know how it is with girls, when it comes to coming out of home at night.”
“Yes, especially with Nivedita; her father is a freak. You know how professors are! He has such crazy ideas, always. Now sample this. The dates of all the functions had been decided long back, but just about a week before the marriage, this man gets such insane ideas.”
“Like?”
“The marriage is next Sunday and only yesterday he tells everyone that a pooja must be organized!”
“I don’t prefer them much either. God’s everywhere, but, surely, not much of a pain. Just a small pooja, yaar!”
“Small? Your head will burst when I tell you this. The pooja is to take place somewhere in Mahabalipuram, not for one-two- hours, but spread over three days!”
“Three days?”
“Three days! And when I try to drive into his head that God will see not whether you have prayed for one or three days, but only how pure your heart is, he just doesn’t get it. Says it is imperative for our future!”
“These superstitions sometimes kill you!”
“I know, and to receive such a chock of the blue, just when I was thinking of enjoying a break after a long time, drives me to depression. You see, I am a man who likes to enjoy his time. I decided to travel in train especially, as I love it. I enjoy life’s small-small joys, and this man kills them. When I was all geared up to have fun with my family and all, this man comes with this preposterous plan and stabs me!”
“Say stab in the middle of a sound sleep.”
“Perfectly put!”

I sympathized with him. Being a victim of the whims and fantasies of a girl’s father myself I could understand what he felt like. If there is ever a man, whom you would give anything to avoid for the rest of your life, it would be a girl’s father. Your girl’s, of course. I gave him a friendly pat.

“Don’t worry, my friend, it’ll be alright. It’s just a matter of three days!”
“Oh, I don’t know what I’ll do,” he almost cried, “The only solace is that I’ll have my sister there. May be, we have some fun. Oh, that reminds me… the last time I talked to her, Shreya didn’t sound alright. She said there was something important…” “Who didn’t sound alright?” I asked. I was half dead. “My sister.”
“I mean, what is her name?”
“Shreya, why?”

That completed the murder. Rajit Ahuja urf Shreya’s Raju bhaiya, the one who used to carry her piggyback all day long, the very brother who was getting married. I wondered, what prevented her from calling him Rajit bhaiya; wasn’t too long; and I cursed the Indian tradition of keeping pet names.

I closed my eyes and felt into my seat. It didn’t seem like a seat at all, instead a million mile deep pit. I felt fast and hit the bottom hard. I didn’t fell anything after that for quite a long time. Numbed, that is what they call it, I was.