Running down the corridor at Delhi University, being chased by friends, I bumped
into a girl who fell over. My friends laughed as I apologised, giving her a
hand while she adjusted her glasses. Then she swept her hair from her face, and
our eyes met. It’s been four years. I was thinner, and she was perhaps a bit
plump. Those glasses were missing, too. But that face was unforgettable.
“Pratap?”
“Ajabdeh?”
We spoke in unison as
our friends smiled confusedly.
“You two know each other?” One guy asked, a
little amused.
“Yes. She...” I nodded.
“We...” She looked at me and paused.
“Were friends?” her friend asked.
Were we? I didn’t know. Yet the only day I
spent with her was the most memorable day I had in her city.
“Are you here for any courses?” I asked
her. She shook her head.
“The inter-college competition.” She
smiled. “I am studying in Chandigarh.”
“Oh, I see.” We started walking down the
corridor, followed by our groups of friends.
“So, I guess I have to go now, the competition is in an hour.” She smiled.
“Sorry about the ... umm... I didn’t see.”
I apologised.
“It’s okay.” She dismissed my apology. “It
was good to see you, Pratap.” She started walking away when I felt that I had to stop her.
“Hey Ajab,” I called out as she stopped.
“What are you doing after the competition?”
“We have a flight tomorrow.” One of her
friends quipped.
“So, you guys can hang out with us for
lunch.” One of my friends offered.
They agreed. She smiled at me and left,
promising to meet us at the canteen in two hours.
For the next two hours, which felt like the
longest of my life, I kept staring at my watch during the lectures. Then we
rushed to the canteen to see them sitting there with tea and samosas.
“What happened at the competition?” One of
my friends asked.
“We lost,” Ajabdeh replied plainly. The gang got busy planning a day in the
city. Ajabdeh seemed awfully quiet.
“If you don’t want to go... You can skip
it.” I offered with a faint smile. Maybe she was upset with the loss.
“I don’t socialise much.” She shrugged, “Especially with strangers.”
“Really?” I smiled, amused “I thought you
took them around your city.”
“Only one.” She smiled at me through her geek glasses. “I think you people should carry on.” She said to her
friends, picked up her handbag and waved me bye, to leave.
I ran after her and stopped her at the
college gates.
“Ajabdeh, wait!” She stopped and turned.
“Can I take you out to dinner? Just the two of us?” My heart thumped in my chest as her smile
faded. I didn’t want to come across as a creep, but I didn’t know how to say it
right as either. This was the first time I was asking a girl out and...
“Yes.” She smiled, “I would like that.”
“Great! I will pick you up at the hotel
then, and we can drive to someplace nice.” I smiled.
“I would like to go Dutch.” She insisted.
“Deal.” I smiled as she stopped a rickshaw
and got in, almost like she was a local.
“He asked you for dinner?” My sister
frowned on Skype. “he knows you are engaged, right?” My hands stopped at the
luggage.
“How does it matter?” I frowned. “He didn’t
ask me out on a date, just a dinner.” I reminded her. Or was it a reminder to
myself?
Don’t get me wrong here; Siddharth is a gem
of a person. He is perfect for me on paper. Well settled and polite. His family had known ours forever.
Their offer for a nuptial wasn’t to be rejected. But something was missing. As
much as I tried to convince myself that everything was fine. And somewhere, meeting
Pratap, someone who knew the person I was in school with, made me feel free
again. I wanted to feel that way. But Heer was right. He should not get the wrong
signals. So I decided to tell him that I was engaged and moving to Belgium the
next year.
She walked out at the reception, grabbing a
good few pairs of eyeballs in her simple yet elegant jumpsuit.
“Sorry, I didn’t pack enough clothes for...”
She shrugged.
“You look beautiful.” I smiled, opening the
door for her.
I could not place why she looked worried.
Did my compliment make her feel awkward? I cleared my throat twice, hoping she
would speak, but she didn’t.
“The Japanese cuisine here is very...” I
tried small talk.
“ I am engaged.” The words blurted out of
her mouth quite fast.
“What?” I was a little taken aback.
“I am engaged. We will get married next
year, and I am moving to Belgium.” She spoke in a hurry. I smiled.
“Congratulations.” I said, “So do I get an
invite?”
“You want one?” Her eyes expected a no. Her
face looked a little disappointed.
“Yes. Of course. It is not every day that
people find love.” I shrugged. She
seemed a little pale at my stare.
“Is everything all right, Ajabdeh?” I asked, a little concerned.
“Yes. Yes. Let’s have dinner.” She smiled.
I turned back to the porch to see him wave
me goodbye with a smile on his face. I waved back with a faint smile and
rushed inside the hotel. His words haunted me.
“So, when are you getting married?” He had asked.
“As soon as I get my graduation
certificate.” I had answered, trying to concentrate on the Sushi I did not quite like, and hoping he would change the topic.
“Well... How is he?” Pratap leaned in with his elbows resting on the table and asked. He seemed eager, and a smile lingered on his lip.
“He is nice. We have known each other as family friends, and I couldn’t ask for a better partner. He proposed with this.” I showed him the rock on my finger.
“Hmm...” He seemed impressed.
“So you will come?” I asked him again as he seemed absent-minded.
“Huh?” He looked up from his plate.
“For the wedding... I...” I wanted to ask so that I could ask him for his contact information.
“No. I was joking.” He shook his head
firmly as I stopped myself from enquiring, and our eyes met. “I will probably not be here as well.”
“Oh, I see.” The rest of the evening was
fairly silent. We ate the food, discussed our friends, and I said it's time I return to the hotel for an early morning flight.
I came back home with a heavy heart. I
didn’t know why I didn’t feel like asking for her number. There was no point. She was starting a new chapter in her life, and I was not even a friend. Just an acquaintance from a long time ago. Instead, I found myself typing her name into the Facebook
search, hoping to find her. Nothing. It was not much of a surprise to me that
she wasn’t on any social media. I would have been surprised if she were. I had lost her, just like that.
