A yellow day

 The bus stopped and was unusually crowded. He was trying to stand still but the rash driving ensured that he tumbled on a few fellow travelers. A laptop bag in one hand and holding the bus rod in another, it was difficult to maintain his balance. A few people got into the already crowded bus. That is when he first saw her. She was wearing a yellow salwar kameez, bright dark eyes lined with kohl, a bindi on her forehead and dark wavy hair falling on her gentle face. Her soothing skin glowed with the lights in the bus. Her dupatta hung loosely over her shoulders. 

She struggled to climb in.

He did not consciously try, but he could not keep his gaze off her. She was so pretty, this crowd was just not right for her. Frail and gentle as a lotus bud, she should have had a chauffeur drive her home. She held the bus rod with one hand trying to balance her dupatta and handbag from the other. “Ticket please” the conductor approached her and tried to get as close to her as possible. She steered away from him, in turn brushing a shoulder with another man leaning on her. It enraged him.

At the next stop, many people climbed down. The seat next to him was vacant now. She was a few steps away and still standing. He put down his bag on the seat, but did not understand how to gesture to her to sit there. He sat down himself. How pretty she was, her little dangling earrings and her cute little smile. He had always been shy, getting cold feet while talking to girls.

The bus suddenly jerked and she fell –  her bag flew open and the things in it scattered. He immediately got up and rushed to her side. Helping her by the elbow, and gathering the things on the floor, he indicated for her to sit down on his seat. She lifted her dupatta from the floor which had fallen, and sat down. The bus jerked ahead. The nearby passengers helped him in gathering her things. She gave him the most rewarding smile and said a polite “Thank you”. He could say nothing.

What should I say to her? Should I ask her name? Should I tell mine. Should I say how pretty she is? He blushed profusely. He looked at her, she looked back, after a few seconds of silence, she gave him a quizzical look. Words failed him, he was so awed by her charm that he feared staring at her for too long. He looked away and blushed. She started adjusting the things in her bag.

I have to make a move, I have to speak to her. Had he ever spoken his heart to a girl? He remembered how in primary school he had liked a girl, but she had stomped his foot and torn his notebook. He had been always skeptical to talk to girls. They were so pretty, but why did they have to be so complicated. Why couldn’t guys tell them how pretty they were without fearing any consequences? Back in college too, he had really liked his lab partner Rajee. He had always wanted to ask her out, but was devastated when his roommate had asked her our first!

He couldn’t let it happen all the time. He had to speak to her. He realized he had looked away from her for too long, and hoped it wouldn’t be taken as a rude gesture. He turned around to face her and assumed preparedness for speech.
She was nowhere to be seen. He looked around. He saw a flash of her yellow dupatta at the bus stop. The bus had already started moving. He saw the bus go past her, and further away. “Please stop the bus. Please stop.” He rushed to the driver. “No sir, we will only stop at the next stop now.”

Cursing himself all the way, he kept looking behind, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. The bus stopped. He got down. Not knowing where to go, he called for the nearest auto rickshaw. He climbed in and asked him to go to the previous bus stop. Anxiously looking around, he pleaded the driver “Please go faster, this is really important.” This was a first for him, chasing after a girl who he had just met. Had he ever chased after anyone? He shook his head and smiled. Was he on a wild goose chase? He had no idea what he was doing but it felt so right!

“Where to now Sir?” He got down from the auto and looked all around at the bus stop. She wasn’t there. He looked at the roads – one was going right and there was a small one bending away to the left. “Which way Sir?” Everything would be based on what he chose now, it could change his life!. “Go right” he said intensely.

The auto rickshaw driver was driving at a slow pace. He had guessed the rider had no idea where he was going. Each time the driver turned back to look at him quizzically, he saw him almost hanging out from the vehicle, searching crazily all over. Now the driver was curious to know the story too. “What are you looking for Sir?” “I don’t think I am going to find her anyway. Please turn back.”

It had been a wild goose chase after all. It was fate, or was it just him, he could not comprehend. “Sir, you want to eat paani puri? This place has the best one around.” He smiled and put a hand on the driver’s shoulder. “Sure man, why not?” The rickshaw turned around and took him to a very small stall. He stepped out. And that was the second time in the day that he felt so mesmerized.

A flash of yellow dupatta, rustling in the breeze, the same earrings which had tickled her face. It could not be true. He had to say it now. Suddenly she turned around and saw him. They looked at each other. “Hi, thanks for helping me in the bus.” He smiled. “Hi, I am Pankaj.” “Hey, I am Preeti.” And she held out her hand. “You like paani puri?” “It’s the best.” “There must be a nice coffee shop around here, we can go if you like coffee as well.” And her reaction was a nod and a smile!

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Chocolate and figs...

The lights flickered first and then gave way to darkness. Can’t say it was petrifying, but all sounds died away with it as well. No more noise of the refrigerator or the air conditioning, or to top it all, the television. It was summer vacation time and most of the neighbours were out holidaying – either hiking or beaches. I had applied for leave, but the same old story was retold.

I had been so preoccupied with work and gadgets, absence of electricity made me realize the pin-drop silence. I peeped out the window, most of the houses were locked. Could not even hear the night guard patrolling.
The summer heat reverberated from the floor. I opened the windows and sat down on the floor lighting candles. I spaced the candles throughout the house. The dying battery of the laptop made me sigh. And I was going to miss today’s “How I met your mother” episode!

My cellphone beeped and sounded rather loud in the silence. It was a forwarded message sent by Anand. As usual, I was not even going to read it. As I deleted the message, I started scanning through my inbox. So many unread messages. Had I been that busy? There were several messages from Sheila –

“Hey, wassup? My wedding is round the corner. Get your dress ready. You will be the maid of honour.”
“Where are you? No response, no calls! Don’t you want to meet my fiancé?”
“This is absurd, I called you days ago and left so many messages. Why don’t you call back? My wedding is around the corner and there is lots to be done.”
“Mummy was very upset today that no one is there to help me with the wedding stuff. She has asked her friend’s daughter to help out. Why do you disappoint me yaar? At least call me!”
“I wish you were there at the engagement ceremony. It’s a solitaire with a platinum band, a beauty. I won’t tell you what I wore. But you were not even there! I don’t think I want to be friends with you anymore!”
“No reaction, I wrote such drastic words last time. Do you remember no times of joy? How we talked about our first kisses, our first moonlight  dances, our first jobs. Remember how we talked about our kids growing up together to be best friends. Forget best friends, I don’t even think we are friends now!”
“This is my last message to you. I will never talk to you ever again. I am really sad on the most happy day of my life. Today is my wedding. But why would you care.”

Tears streamed from my eyes in the most continuous fashion. I kept staring at that last message. Where had I been? What had I been busy with? Work and hectic schedules. I remember having seen “1 message received” a couple of times. But I did not remember ever checking them. What had I done? Was I so engrossed in the race for success, that I had left my life behind?
I picked up the phone and dialed her number. Instantly, I disconnected it. What was I going to say to her?

 How was I ever going to face her? I checked the date of the message, almost 4 months back. 4 months…she must be married already. Oh, how much she will hate me for what I have done to her. Best friends for life – we said to each other locking our little fingers together. “I like this dress.” “You take it” And she had given it to me. I always ordered chocolate icecream and she ordered fig icecream. But she always took a huge bite out of mine! It had been ages since I ate ice cream, it had been ages since I saw her.

I redialed. “Can I speak to Sheila.” “She is not here, you know after the wedding they have moved. Let me get the number for you.” I breathed heavily into the speaker, unsure of what to say. “Thank you.” I thought a lot about an apology or what I was going to say to her, but at this point I was blank, I had no idea.

“Sheila” “Yes, who……who’s this…” I was silent “I am sorry Sheila.” Again…silence! “How are you? Where are you? Can we please meet? I can never forgive myself for betraying you like this. I am so sorry.” “Why have you called today? Do you even remember who I am?” “I do Sheila, you are my best friend. But I am not your best friend. I am a terrible friend. I have no explanation. I am just dying to see you right now.”

As I entered her house, I could sense her smell. She had always loved Chanel No 5, and I could say she had worn it recently. The drive to her house had been crazy. Coming out of my house, I had slipped once in the darkness, tumbled almost on the staircase, and the freaking haunting silence of the night had been devilish. I drove like a madman. And I was still in my pyjamas!

Her maid had answered the door. It was almost midnight, I realized how I would have bothered her and her husband. She appeared in a pink nightgown – her favourite colour. Her face was blank with no expressions. She rushed towards me and hugged me. I hugged her. It was a defining moment of sorrow, joy and insomnia.

“Oh my god, you are pregnant?” “Yes, I have been dying to tell you. Put a hand here and you can feel the baby.” “No, I am too scared.” “Oh come on” She took me hand and placed it on her belly. We both smiled. “Hey, guess what I have in the freezer?” “Chocolate ice cream and fig ice cream.” And we both broke into fits of laughter. And so we went on talking and rebonding and relishing the ice creams….on that miraculous day when the electricity went off….

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