Authors: Latika Sharma
It was a cold February morning, the day of our fourth paper, English. Anjali and I were both huddled in a bundle as the chill was permeating in our bones. We were sitting under the Banyan trees, where everyone gathered before the doors to the huge exam auditorium opened. The sky was cloudy and a mild wind was adding to the chill of the weather.
“Your hands are shivering Madam Curie!” Kabir was sitting next to me. I could feel his arm brush mine and the warmth was very comforting.
“And by god! Why are you studying mathematics? It’s English today!” Kabir exclaimed.
“Because I’m good in English. There is nothing to study in it actually, you either know the language or not. Maths on the other hand needs more attention.” I spoke confidently. Kabir nodded his head in amazement.
“You better put your hands in my pockets! How will you write anything if they freeze?”
“They won’t freeze Kabir. And I too am wearing a blazer! I’m not a uniform defaulter, remember!” I spoke.
“But of cource! My Madam Curie is everything but a rule breaker. Yet . . . your hands are freezing cold Riya. Hold on! I’ll get some coffee.” With that he got up, dumped his book in my hands, as was his habit now and rushed to get coffee.
Dev walked in just as Kabir left and sat down besides us.
“Morning!” I slipped my bag to make room for him.
“Why can’t I understand these poetry verses? I mean just why? Why can’t the poets say stuff straight?” Dev grumbled after opening his book.
“That’s the beauty of words Dev. Sometimes the best feelings are expressed in the most simplest of manner and by joining two sentences in a rhyme the essence of the idea is deepened, to touch not just your mind but also your heart!” Anjali spoke. I smiled at her and she smiled back. We knew Dev understood not a word of what she had pattered.
“Well . . . whatever!” he said.
“Come Dev, I’ll explain it, once more! Now listen carefully.” I slipped close to Dev and took his book in my hands. I placed his register on my knees and began explaining the poem, unaware that Tejas and his gang were watching our every move.
Kabir returned with two cups and on seeing Dev he went back to fetch two more. He had brought one cup for Anjali as well which she took hesitantly. It was not that he was trying to make an impression on her, Kabir was a gentleman at heart, and Anjali had begun to see that too.
Soon the doors to the auditoriums opened. Kabir and Dev were not in our room. So we wished each other bye and luck and went and occupied our seats. Anjali was three rows ahead of me.
The paper went well. I was most satisfied with my answers. When we were stepping outside, I saw Jaya, Jagriti, Ameesha and practically everyone staring at me in that ominous odd way!
For a second I thought I must have spilled ink on my face or something, so I asked Anjali to see what was wrong.
“Nothing is wrong Riya. Why do you ask?” Anjali sounded doubtful herself.
“I don’t know Anjali, is it me or is every one looking strangely at me and whispering something?” I said. Anjali looked around and then stopped in her tracks.
“Where is Kabir?” she asked in a highly alarmed voice. It was then that it struck me. Kabir, who ran from across the auditoriums after each exam to meet me, was ominously missing today.
It did not take me long to find out where he was.
I found myself standing outside the Principal’s office facing Kabir, Dev and Tejas. All three were facing yet another suspension.
But it was not for cheating, as one would expect in the days of exams.
Apparently after we left and everyone entered their rooms, Tejas had teased his way next to Kabir.
“Well well well . . . my friend! I must admit, that chick of yours, Riya, is something!” He had begun his sleazy talk.
“There you were, being her waiter, bringing coffee for her and her best friend and here she was, warming up next to your best friend . . . arms touching, knees . . . touching, huddled together studying the romantic art of poetry! I never realised how fast she was, making moves on each one of us . . . I mean I’m sure you haven’t forgotten her swaying with me on the dance floor that day . . . God! I miss that . . . and she was so soft and “
Well, Tejas could not finish his sentence, as he never intended to either, I suppose. Kabir and Dev had pounced on him, landing ruthless punches wherever their hands could find flesh. Tejas and his gang had jumped in as well. There was a huge commotion in the second auditorium and we were not even aware of the tremors. The teachers had to physically pull them both apart. Boys forget that fury brings out unknown source of energy fromwithin us. Loads of mitochondria in loads of muscles, all release energy and together with adrenaline . . . well it’s a recipe for disaster!
So by the time I saw them, their eyes were swollen, changing colours. Their shirts were torn, blazers were brutally damaged. There were scratch marks on Kabir’s face and neck and his knuckles were a painful shade of burgundy.
Tejas was no better. His lip was cut and bleeding. He held ice to it, to stop the blood. His eyes were swollen and his face too was scratched badly. Kabir was standing but was in a lot of pain. His abdomen was tender now, after the kicks. Dev was sitting, his whole body was aching and there was an open wound on his forehead, which the school doctor had to stitch. Apparently, he had hit a desk when Tejas had pushed him violently.
After the boys were slapped with detention for the rest of the entire month and the parents had once again apologised and left the school, Kabir had returned to the sick bay to pick up his bags. He was to leave with his parents too, immediately.
That is where I met him. The sight of him hurt so badly made me forget my initial anger. I was swapped with worry instead. I did not know what was hurting him more, the injuries or facing me.
“I’m sorry Riya.” He said without looking up.
“Why did you do that Kabir? Din’t I explain, Tejas wanted this! He wanted to get back at me through you. He knew how much effort we had done for these exams and he knew you were actually doing good this time! I had warned you. Yet, you slipped.” I came closer to him and held his hand. I saw him wince in pain.
“Does it hurt a lot?” My voice was meek and shaky. I knew he was in agony.
“No!” came the adamant reply. “But it hurt when he said those nasty things about you Riya. I can’t hear anyone say such thing for you. You . . . You . . . You . . . you mean a LOT to me now! I can’t let anyone hurt you!” He said softly.
That was when I knew it too.
I too had lost it, my heart . . . to Kabir Sharma.
It was then that I too realised, how much he really meant to me. It was then I realised that I was in tears, because he was in pain, not because he missed his exam. I realised why it mattered to me to make sure he got all study material, to make sure he was attending school, to make sure he was alright. It was then that I realised that I actually missed him if he was not around, that I enjoyed coming to school each day because sub consciously I was aware that he was there too. I knew now that school was such an awesome place because Kabir was in my life.
As I held his hand in mine and stood there facing him sitting on the bed of the sick bay, I took my other free hand and gently placed it on his swollen cheek. He looked up in my eyes and we understood each other.
“Don’t be mad at me! Please, don’t leave me!” He said. His parents were waiting for him.
“I’m not angry Kabir, I’m never angry at you. And I will not leave you . . . ever. NEVER!” I had replied.
That was the day; Kabir Sharma fell completely and madly in love with Riya Sehgal.
L
ife changed after that.
I was never the timid kinds, just polite. I never feared anything except failure in perhaps clearing medical entrance. I was just sixteen. My friend circle was limited and Anjali was the closest confidant I had. I read books late till night and never missed school.
Kabir changed a few of those things. I began to ponder over issues more and express my opinions less. I feared people not understanding our relation and spoiling my well-built image in school. My friend circle of confidants increased by one: Dev, who was so dedicated to me and Kabir that at times Anjali felt jealous of me calling on him instead of her. I still read late in night, as I had dedicated my whole life towards a medical career and I still never missed school. But this time it was not for all the class tests I wanted to excel in or the debates or the school annual day. It was only for one reason.
The revisions after the tenth pre-board examinations had begun. Examinations were more than just subjective now. Kabir returned obviously and the entire school began looking at us in aweird way, as if we were going to do something silly and it would make the school newsletter. Most coteries were wondering when we would kiss! Or how was our first kiss, for some people had run amok with wild imaginations. According to some, we were ‘Hot’!
I had cried initially when Meenakshi approached me again that day.
“See! I told you that boy would land you in trouble! Have you heard the jingle people chant these days! It doesn’t bother him, we know that but Riya . . . you too? It doesn’t bother you either now?” Meenakshi was standing near my biology lab door.
“It bothers me Meenakshi, believe me it does. But all of you are taking this the wrong way. Sure we make a good, great pair and all, but that’s it! There is no kissing or hugging or . . . any of those things. It’s not like that between us.” I could hear the panic creeping in my voice again.
“That’s your deduction Riya. Not ours. I mean, we see you with him EVERY TIME!! In lunch, during classes obviously, after school, in picnics, in auditoriums, in sick bay!! You two are together! What do you want us to deduce then?” Meenakshi protested her very valid point.
I was silent, lost in thoughts. How could I explain to them what Kabir meant to me? How do I tell that I myself was confused at my own feelings for him, I was experiencing a conflict within, between my mind and heart.
“Look, even some of the teachers have noticed you guys. So you better watch out. Kabir’s parents won’t take it badly, but
Riya, we all have seen your dad. He would be furious!” Ameesha pointed out. They both left after a while. I was worried too, yet I did not have the courage to stay away from him now.
At last, the finals had ended; we all did well, including Dev and Kabby. The vacations began and all of us got occupied with some or the other camp. Our school also organized a pottery, painting and yoga class camp, in June holidays. We also had April and May off to ourselves, as Board results are declared later.
Kabir and his influential family visited their relatives in Chicago. I went to visit mine in Shimla and Mumbai. It was in the end of May I suppose or starting of June, that our result was declared. I had topped the tenth section and Kabby had managed a neat score as well.
I called him to congratulate.
“Hi Kabir! You did well, I saw, congratulations!” I was happier for him than I was for my net 99.7%
“Thanks to you, Madam Curie! Anjali did well too.” Kabir knew I was all too pleased to see Anjali’s English scores. She had won that scholarship to London College after all.
“Yeah! There is a party at her place and Kabby; she has asked me to invite you too. And Dev!” I was happy.
“Really! The nit-wit and me? Aren’t we blessed by the gods!” Kabir and I laughed at our own friends.
“So when are you returning back from Shimla?” Kabir was back from Chicago.
“Two more days. Then I’ll see you in the pottery classes.” I knew he would come. Dev had said he would, only to spend time with me.
“Oh! Yeah . . . those classes, boring.”
“Then I suppose you won’t come and I’ll just have to find a new yoga partner!” I sounded innocent.
“I didn’t say I’m not coming, I simply pointed to the blatant fact that they are boring!” Kabir spoke immediately and I smiled at the other end.
“By, the way, my dad bought me a bike for my fantastic score in tenth? What did you get?” Kabir had picked up excitement suddenly.
“WHAT? A bike? But you aren’t of the legal age Kabby?” I shouted into my cell. Why did parents do that? I mean, he was hardly out of tenth and here his dad was, overwhelmed with his son, buying him such extravagant gifts to show his love.
“C’mon Riya! Stop being so disapproving! It’s beautiful! You must see its pick-up and traction! And it is so smooth!” Kabir was prattling and I just heard silently. It sounded like Ayesha describing one of her gowns.
“So when can I take you for a ride? My bike is missing its favourite passenger!” Kabir spoke.
“Really? How many passengers have you had so far for me to be declared the favourite?” I was pulling his leg.
“Oh a few . . . you know how dames love sitting behind a bike.” Kabir was obviously enjoying too.
“So why don’t you take one of them, again?” I continued.
“Because I’m tempted to . . . you know, complete the jingle!” Kabir increased my plight. I stopped breathing for a second; I think he realized it too.
These past few days, all had started chanting this jingle that I had found very inappropriate and never considered it much up until now.
“Hello? Riya?” Kabir sounded very calm. “Yes. I’m here. Just thinking!” I replied slowly. “What? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking . . . why you don’t complete the jingle if you so much are tempted to!” I was getting peevish.
There was silence on the other end. It was my turn to enquire if he was still there.
“She won’t let me . . . yet.” Kabir finally spoke.
“Who? Which one?” I was enraged and as curious as a cat!
“Her . . . there is only one girl’s name in that jingle, my flightless bird, and she is the only one I will complete this jingle with, whenever she lets me!” Kabir said it in the most passionate and melodious voice.
Those words still reverberate in my mind today. Riya switched off her night lamp and tried to sleep.
“Kabir and Riya sitting under a tree . . .
K-I-S-S-I-N-G”