It Wasn't Love at First Shalini and I (9 page)

Well, that is what I should have done. Instead of that, I opened
my coffee container and spilled the coffee on the floor of the cafe.
Then I sat on the spilled coffee, looked at her, waved my hand and
said a sheepish ‘Hi.’ I don’t really know why I did that. Both of us
now had a wet ass and I don’t think the fact that even I had one made
an inch of an difference to her. If anything, I guess she was more
embarrassed by my antics that pleased.

No thunderous applause, everyone got back to doing what they
were, but I changed the tears into a smile. A goofy smile but
nevertheless a smile. She saw me and realised that she did no longer
look like the stupidest person in the cafe.

She settled down in the cafe, still wet but atleast not overly
concerned about it, and ordered one more of the sixty bucks coffee.
She added some chocolate sauce and other things as well making my
wallet lighter by 40 bucks more. These cafes were very soon going to
go out of business. Who pays 100 hard earned Rupees for a coffee?

We started talking. I made it a point not to talk about what had
just happened. The conversation was first the formal self starting
about the boring project, but gradually shifted into a friendly banter
with office politics and gossips taking centre stage. We went on and
on talking endlessly about things which would seem so redundant if
I mentioned them now, but seemed so very interesting at that point
in time. After around a couple of hours we decided to leave the cafe.
Our clothes had sufficiently dried out even though there was a stain
on my pants. I put my jacket around my waist to take care of that.
The rain had now stopped and the smell of the first rain had enveloped
the city leading to a very romantic feel about everything. This time I
decided to go with her for a walk rather than the Partha Sarthi rock
routine and we strolled in a park close by for 2 hours. She started
telling me how much the city had changed over the past few years
and the talk, even though boring, seemed interesting to me then.
There was something about her which drew me to her. Maybe it was
her beauty, maybe something else, but slowly I could realise that I
was losing control over myself.

We continued walking around the park. The sun was partly out
now and a rainbow was visible if you really strained your eyes. The
grass was a very light green with a musky flavour to it. We had removed
our shoes and the tiny wet blades ticked our feet as we walked. There
were little squirrels running around trying to look for nuts and some
leaves had fallen out of the trees due to the rain. The birds, though
not singing, but were proudly roaming the sky now that the water
had ceased.

I know you can see these things any day of the week. But all this
seemed so beautiful and appropriate at that point. I could see myself
falling for her. I could see the smile on my face widening with each
step we took. I could see myself wanting her more every passing
second. And I could see myself loving each moment of it.

Our conversation had now taken a personal tone. The personal
tone when you have started working begins with your job and then
gradually steers to your life. She pretty much knew about my job so
I just filled in the basic details of how I got there. I started with my
modest upbringing, then the college life where I discovered who I
really was, and then job where I lived for weekends. And before we
could get to her, it started raining again. The small droplets of water
started falling on her face. She tried to brush them off initially but
then we both made a dash towards the nearest tree. The tree somewhat
protected us, but then, we just stopped caring. My eyes met hers and
we just stared into each other. I could see that I had had the same
affect on her. We got close, then closer.

Then she ran away. Without saying a word, leaving me alone under
that tree. I did not know what had hit me. I tried calling her cell
phone but she cancelled the call. I tried again and it was switched off.
I didn’t understand what had just happened. Everything seemed to
be going perfectly, but then she just took off. I waited for the rain to
subside a little and then made the confused journey back home. I
tried calling her for two days but she did not take my call. I would
meet her in office on Monday though. My company had to hand
over the project to them.

I reached office a little early on Monday. We had an early morning
meeting with Pooja’s company and irrespective of what had transpired
between us, I still had to finish my work. There were some last minute
things remaining and the team and I finished them and we were
ready. Surprisingly for the other members of my team and expectedly
for me, Pooja did not come for the final meeting that day. She had
called in sick and one of her colleagues, a more senior guy, had come
and understood the processes and the project was over. There would
be atleast no more official interaction with Pooja.

I wanted to know what had happened but got immersed in work.
November was always a busy period in my company because most
of our clients were US based and they never worked in December. So
all December deadlines had to be met in November itself. The number
of coffee cups on every table increased and the duration of the cigarette
and lunch breaks reduced drastically during that period. No matter
how laid back at home you may be, when a client needs a project on
time, you have to sweat it out at office. I think that is one of the
reasons that all major projects, IT atleast , are bagged by Indian
companies. Even the people in the west know that if need be we will
stay at office all night but will ensure that the work gets done.

It was now 8 pm and I was to have a long day at work. Some of
my colleagues had left, while some were still there. I did not have
much time so I decided to goto the parantha shop near the base of
the building for dinner. My office was on the ninth floor and I took
the elevator down. All alone, in a captive little place, you sometimes
really do feel if you made the right choices in life. Was this what I
really wanted to do? I let the thought pass as it was my job which was
going to pay for my paranthas. I walked across the cigarette smoking
spot, said hi to a couple of colleagues who were having their last
puffs before they headed to a no smoking zone- home. I chatted for
a couple of minutes. All of us bitched about how bad things became
in November, how it was not our fault that the western world did
not work in December and how lousy the salary increments were to
be this year and how none of us were going to be promoted and how
everyone in the company, barring us, had no work to do and how we
had heard that the head of the company was leaving and how someone
had seen Shiven and Sonalika in a kind of compromising position
and how the quality of the food in the cafeteria had gone even worse
and how we should all stop smoking as it is really injurious to healtheven the pack said so.

These were the discussions we had every day, and I bet these are
the discussions that you can hear around every office every day. These
discussions don’t really change anything, they just help you vent out
the frustration, help you cleanse your system so that you are ready
for another session of sitting in front of the computer. I asked the
cigarette guy how much I owed him, he said 120 bucks, I said I did
not have change and would pay him later. We said our goodbyes and
I went out to the local dhaba which served the best aaloo parantha. I
usually used to come here with friends and colleagues but today I
was alone. It feels weird eating alone in the office. You feel alone, you
feel lost, you feel unwanted.

We usually used to order the same paranthas every day but today I
had a look at the menu. I was surprised to see the variety on offer. It
was not a Punjabi dhaba, apparently they also served Chinese,
Mughlai, Continental and Italian. I looked at the menu for a good 2
minutes and saw a spelling error in every dish that was not a parantha.
So I ordered two aaloo paranthas with butter and pickle on the side
and a two egg double fry with one cup of tea.

Yes, I was not too fat yet, or not too old yet, to think of cholesterol.
I liked my food fried. I sat on the garden chair, put my head back and
closed my eyes trying to relax and stayed that way for a couple of
minutes. When I opened them, expecting to see the waiter with the
tea, I saw Pooja, albeit with the tea.

“Hi. Surprised?”
She was still blurry. I needed sleep.
“Well yes, kind off. In fact, yes, very surprised.”

She offered me the tea. She had two cups, I took one. She spoke.
“I am sorry for what I did. But I had a reason.”

 

“I am sure you had one. Maybe you found me too boring and just
wanted to get the hell out.”

 

I tried to be funny and she did smile. Maybe because she had run
off earlier and had to do something to make me feel better.
“You know it was not that.”

 

“Then what was it. In fact, never mind. Such things happen. So
tell me, how come you are here.”

She gave me a look as if I was the dumbest person on earth.
“I am here to see you.”

“Really? That’s nice.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I
really needed sleep. And I needed the aaloo paranthas before the sleep.
She spoke. “Let me put it out straight away. I really. I am. I really
am...”

Just then the waiter came with the two paranthas with the butter
melting on them and then mixing with the mango pickle. All my
attention shifted from her to the food. I was kind of lusting for it.

“Looks nice” she said. “You want some?”

 

Then I shouted to the waiter “Hero, get one more for madam,
aaloo. Then to her “You have to try their aaloo paratha, it is heavenly.”
The parantha completely controlled me. She was a little bemused.
“I was trying to tell you something.”

 

“Oh yes, please.”

 

“Are you sure you can fathom what I am going to tell you over
your loving paranthas.”

Her voice had an irritated tone to it. I had dipped a small piece in
butter and was mixing it with the pickle but I stopped and unwittingly
I kept it down.

“No problem at all. Tell me.”
“What I was telling you was that I...”

Just then the waiter came with her parantha. Talk about quick
service when you don’t need it. She gave the waiter such a dreadful
look that he went back mumbling something.

“I really like you.”

 

Wow. I did not know how to react. I knew that she liked me on
some level but to actually hear it took me a little back.

“I started liking you soon after we started working together. At
first I thought that it was a harmless crush and would pass but as the
days kept passing by, it became something more than a crush. And
that day, in the park, it got a little too out of control.”

I really didn’t know what to say, so I spoke “I really don’t know
what to say.”

“But I cannot like you. I mean I should not like you. I am engaged,
and that too to my boyfriend of many years. There is a date to the
wedding, the cards are printed, invitations are going out. In fact,
right now, I should be distributing these cards to some of my
relatives.”

She took out the marriage invitation from her purse and threw it
towards me. It landed close to my food. The cards looked nice, but
they would have spoiled my paranthas.

“Then why are you here?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
She started crying a little, then started sobbing.

“I don’t know.” She sat down next to me. I did not know what to
do. I was right in front of my office and a girl was sitting next to me
and was crying. And that was not the major problem. She was getting
married to her boyfriend, was supposedly out delivering invitations,
but here she was sitting next to me and crying.

I really did not know what to do or what to say. “Why don’t you
eat something. The food is getting cold.”

 

I know, not the right thing to say. She looked at me, gave a disgusted
look, and cried some more.

“I am getting married soon and am getting confused because of
you! You who can’t bloody get over a aaloo parantha.” And she sobbed
some more. I was really confused now. I was hungry, had a ton of
work to finish, was dead sleepy, but the biggest problem was that I
had an engaged woman sitting next to me telling me that she liked
me. I seriously did not know what to do. I liked Pooja but I did not
want to get into this mess. I did not like her
that
much and I was
pretty comfortable out of the troubled situation she was trying to
get me into. Had she been married, a fling would have been fine, I
had always fantasised that. But this was dangerous, she was engaged
and confused as to whether she should marry that guy or not. So I
just sat there, looking at my food which would not taste half as good
now, and hearing her cry.

She stopped after around five minutes and got up. “Let’s go.” I
knew I had lost all control as soon as she had started crying. I paid the
waiter and got up not knowing how my work would finish, how
my stomach would get filled and when finally would I get home and
lay my back on the bed. Everything was under her control now. We
went to her car and Pooja started with her story.

Pooja had what you would call the ideal relationship, until I came
into the scene that is. She had known Rannvijay, her boyfriend and
then her fiancé for 13 years and they had been dating for the last four.
He was what every girl would want in a guy, well educated, earning
well etc etc. Everything was perfect, until he proposed.

Pooja said that she had this feeling of being trapped since the time
she had gotten engaged. Rannvijay, who until then used to trust her,
had started questioning her whereabouts. He wanted to know where
she was going, with whom she was going, why was she going and all
other related questions a possessive boyfriend asks. Then one day, he
told her to leave her job after getting married.