Authors: Latika Sharma
“Why
. . .
they’r too heavy for your small hands?” I said softly looking down at her.
“No. I am not your butler.” She had said meekly.
“Then you are my
. . .
what?” I took a step closer to her, folding my arms. She had finally looked up and our eyes had met. God! She looked so beautiful, I had to stop myself. “That lip-gloss looks good on you,” I had said finally and she had blushed away.
It was a tough time for us in school after that picnic. Yet we found each other, accepted our love for each other and my life changed forever! From that moment on, everything I did was for our future. She was the one I was to spend my life with and I wanted it to be perfect for us. Needless to say, I was always getting into mischief, but was no longer a weak student. I was getting along great in my eleventh and twelfth grades, despite the fact that Riya was in science section now. We would meet more often than any one could imagine. There were all sorts of tricks and ploys that I would use to get her out of the class and hopefully into my arms. Most of the time those ploys worked, though she hardly ever allowed me to hug her, much to my dismay. I still loved her more, foolish or mesmerized, I still can’t say, I loved her far too much to ever hurt her by being insisting or demanding. I did what she said, liked and permitted. Except bunking classes to meet her . . . that I could not afford to improve.
“May I come in Ma’am?” I said holding a set of biology files in my hand. It was Riya’s class, 12
th
A. I was in 12
th
C, commerce with maths section.
“Yes.” Mrs Arti Menon had said, our former History teacher. I had walked in, kept the files on her table, said they were to be distributed and looked sideways at my girl. She knew. And after exactly six minutes I saw her walking toward the water point, smiling. I pulled her behind the famous dark stairs and held her hand.
“I missed you,” I said.
“Kabby . . . you said that in the last period too.” Riya said unexcitingly. “Now, are you bunking class now, or was it in the last period?”
“How does it matter
. . . ?
I was missing you. Are you free this weekend? I want to take you out.” I moved close to her.
“No. I have studies to do. Besides what am I going to tell my folks
. . . ?
‘Hey dad I am going on a date with that boy you despise’” Riya said pushing me away. We did this pendulum thing all the time. I would swing closer to her and she would push me back, sometimes blushing, other times willing otherwise.
“You just say ‘Yes’ doll
. . .
and Casanova here, will take care of everything else. My bike misses you as well,” I swung closer this time.
“Ok
. . .
let’s see what my man here, can do. And don’t call me Doll.” She said and did not push me back this time. “But if you miss another class the deal is off.”
With that she blew a kiss at me which I caught and thumped on my heart and walked off. I knew what had to be done to sneak her out of her dad’s captivity. I had done it thrice before, much to Anjali’s sheer disapproval. I had not liked her rebuke the first few times but I was getting the hang of it now. And I suppose she knew it was a done deal as well.
I picked her up from Anjali’s house. I loved taking her around Delhi, speeding on my bike. It was a gift from my dad on my securing 79% in tenth board examination, though Riya never appreciated my driving it without a licence. But you know how we boys are now, we love doing things we are asked not to, especially if it involves speed and girls. Riya had got a cell phone as her reward, much to my delight.
Sitting alone in his long flight back to his home Kabir got lost in his yesteryears . . . thinking of the girl he fell in love with. The girl he still truly loved . . . Riya Sehgal. Thinking of those three glorious years of school, and the day she left him.
But the most thrilling memory was the day he saw her
. . .
again.
I
was never ready for class tests. In fact I hated the entire concept of class tests. It was only a ploy to make our lives miserable. Just think! How much time a teacher spent in making a 20 mark test paper? Hardly five minutes and how much time she spends in checking it? As much as she wished! Sometimes more than a week! But no one ever thinks of the damage it causes to our lives, the havoc it breaks in our homes when we score poorly in exams.
My folks never scolded me much. I suppose they were fed up. But Riya . . . she amazed me! That girl could scold me forever on my poor performances! I did not mind . . . I loved her far too much. But that first time when I had asked her to show me an answer in a class test and she had bluntly refused, I had been so shocked!
I was not in a habit of being refused. Especially by girls. And for what . . . I had just asked Riya to show me the value of atomic number . . . or was it the mass number?
And, had I been angry with her! Dev and I generally managed to help each other in ALL exams and class tests. But chemistrywas not his cup of tea either. His test notebook (if ever there was such a thing) was just as empty as mine, apart from his batman and superman doodles.
“Damn it Riya! What would have happened with just one question? You could have shown it!” I had shouted on her that day after the chemistry teacher had left.
“There is no honour in getting marks by cheating Kabby.” She had spoken softly yet very firmly. “And after all the hard work I have done with you . . . how could you ask ME of all people to allow you to cheat?” She looked so reproachfully at me that I felt like vanishing into thin air. What I wanted to say was that I did not want to look stupid in front of her, that actually I was concerned about my studies but they just were not that easy for me, but all I said out of embarrassment was “To hell with honour, let’s not make it big Riya when it is just a tiny issue . . . I asked for your help and you turned away!” I fumed up, not at her but in reality, at my own incompetence, and walked away.
I recall how severed our relationship was after that. I would look for her all the time and then turn sideways when I knew she was looking at me as well. I flirted with Ayesha, I made fun of her and I did all I could think of to tick her
off. But Riya was immovable, I know she was hurt as her eyes were quite expressive and Anjali’s stares were like a gun shot, but I, like a mad love burnt boyfriend, did all I could to get to her.
“You are losing your calm Kabir, what is with you?” Coach Ranjeet had asked me that day after school practice. I was upset, missing simple shots and flaring up a little too much at my team. My team mates were being supportive but Tejas was filling in the coaches on my mood swing and kicking dirt in my face openly.
“It’s nothing Coach.” I looked at my dirty sneakers pretending to tie them, avoiding his deep gaze.
“You are the captain Kabir, your team looks up to you for everything. Do not let a personal issue spoil your game and damage your reputation. I will be watching you.” He left me with my misery. Outside the boys lockers I think I heard a noise and when I walked out I found, to my disgust Tejas leaning on the wall smiling.
“So, Kabir are you ok? Your game today was . . . plain. I know, you are under a lot of pressure, with your compartment exams and a poor team A, coach should give you some credit instead my man, why don’t you take rest for a few days?”
“My team is excellent Tejas, and I was preoccupied today. I don’t need any rest, and my exams are no problem . . . especially not yours.” I spoke very tightjawed.
“Sure man, as long as you have that chick Riya tutoring you. Must be good, I was thinking of asking her for help myself. You think she will be . . . generous enough to help another boy? I mean it’s not like you two are a couple . . . right?” Tejas knew he was pushing me over the edge, but I controlled the surge of anger building in me and clenching my fist I turned and walked away.
“Kabby, you need to chill man!” It was Dev and we were having the final match, a few days later. “We are doing great; don’t spoil it . . . what is the matter? You looked stressed. Did that
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duff Tejas do something?” Dev was panting and asked in our halftime. I was sitting dejectedly and had been asked twice by the referee to calm down. Coach Ranjeet was practically hoarse shouting at me.
“It’s not Tejas, it’s her.” I had said pointing randomly at the crowd of students who had gathered to see me play . . . see me get shouted at.
“Who . . . Who are you pointing at?” Dev looked scanning the crowd, a white hand towel around his thick muscular neck.
“Who else Dev? Riya . . . she is sitting there and staring at me and I can’t play! I CAN’T PLAY DAMN IT!” I shouted out of frustration. Dev knew what I meant; especially since no one in their complete 6/6 vision could ever stare from that distance.
Our fight had finally wrecked my nerves. I could take it no more. Tough guys were actually quite mellow at heart. This was a phrase I had heard from my mom, now I was beginning to feel its weight. Riya’s silence and absence was driving me mad. I wanted her back... I wanted her back so badly.
Dev had patted my back and left. Just as the time was getting over, he called me side and handed over a chit.
“It’s from her.” He had said surreptitiously.
I was amazed and delighted and yet jittery as my fingers, rough from playing ball, fumbled to open it. As I looked into it, a smile crossed my face. I know I will never forget that instance, when I felt the connection between us come
alive. I felt that a weight had lifted off me, that a magical potion had been injected in me that made me come to my real senses. I felt powerful, happy and active. I looked at the paper in my hand and understood what she meant . . . I realized we were together again . . . Friends again. And as I looked at her and saw her smile at me with that knowing nod I felt a hand loosen its grip on my strangled neck.
Tejas was shocked as well, on being caught dumbfounded. The chit was empty, but he did not know that. I can never forget his face. I ended one war with Riya and had embarked on another one with Tejas.
I
had begun spending a lot of time at work. It was the only way I could manage to keep her away from me. “My love for you is eternal Kabby . . .” Liar. How easily she had forgotten me and moved on. How I wished to make her pay. But I could not even then; because come what may, I loved her . . . my love for her was eternal indeed.
I wanted to break Tejas’s neck for dancing with her, and I wanted to shake Riya so hard for daring to do that in front of me!
“Calm down man! Calm down Kabby, she was just making you jealous! Forget it. It was a ploy!” Dev was pulling me away from the crowd as I was all charged up to go and beat Tejas
. . .
or quarrel with Riya!
“It worked, won’t you say! Did you see how she
. . .
touched Tejas? That girl! I will kill her for doing that. How dare she?” I was so angry; I was pacing the corridor of our hotel when everyone else was spreading tales about me and Riya.
“Well you did give her enough reason Kabby. You have been flirting as hell and making her see all that. Why are you pretendingto not like her when you clearly do?” Dev had asked so simply that I was lost for words yet again.
“I don’t like her Dev
. . .”
I had not looked at him as I lied. I was crazy after her.
“Well then it won’t be a problem if she hangs around with Tejas. I think he will ask her
. . .
especially after that dance.”
I turned to look at him, anger oozing out of my eyes and Dev just smiled.
“Go to her man
. . .
tell her how you feel. But first, tell yourself how you feel. And I will go catch that Anjali ... I tell you man, these simple studious dames are a real party to be with.” Dev patted my back and jogged his way back to the bonfire.
Oh! I had met her all right, poured my heart out. I knew then that my life, as I knew it had changed forever. I started liking everything related to her, even books! My scores improved, to my own surprise. I did not realize before Riya that I could do well in studies, that teachers might praise me for something other than sports, that my mom would actually cry when she saw my tenth result on the net, that my friend circle would quadruple and that my report cards can have the word ‘excellent’ written in them.
I can’t begin to thank her. She made me what I am today. She gave me my first dream, my first ambition . . . and my first kiss. I can never ever forget that moment.
And it was that moment, the thrill, the serene feeling of completeness in my heart, that sense of holding her in my arms ... all emotions I had felt for her, which re-entered flooding my mind when I saw her again.
So suddenly, it was.
I thought I heard a familiar voice. But I wondered why it had raised the hair at the back of my neck. I had looked around for that voice. All I saw was a bland and pretentious crowd of rich people; over flowing glasses, women in skimpy dresses, men with more money than brains. And I wondered why I had even bothered to accept this invitation to the opening of the hotel’s new club floor.
Maybe, it was because I was their financial advisor; or maybe because my girlfriend Manya, an aspiring model, had cajoled me into coming here. We had met at a friend’s party and had been dating for a while now, and Manya was ambitious and had a figure to die for.
“Mr. Kabir! Glad you came.” Vikram had extended his hand and I shook it gladly. Vikram Bajaj was the hotel chain’s marketing man, a very important person I must admit, and during the course of my work in his hotel, our friendship had grown strong.