Just the Way You Are (13 page)

‘I wanted to but his parents weren't ready as we are from different castes.'

‘Okay,' I replied briefly so as to end this conversation.

‘You didn't answer. I like you. You are shy. I like your mild mannerisms. Viraat is also like you.'

‘Nice. I may need some time. Let's go to where everyone's sitting.'

We came out of the room. Our parents were waiting for us. Kajal was smiling and looking at her smile, Mom winked at me.

I must clear her confusion, I thought.

‘So, how was it? Did you like Kajal?' her mother asked.

I was reluctant to say anything at this moment. I nodded and said, hesitantly, ‘Yes. Everything had gone fine but since it is a lifetime decision, I may need some time.'

‘Sure, beta. Take your time.'

‘WHAT? BUT WHY?' MOM SHOUTED.

‘I don't want to. You were not in the room.' I didn't want to extend this conversation.

‘What happened? She is beautiful and cooks well. She prepared the snacks you were hogging.'

‘If you want someone who cooks well, then hire a cook.' I knew this conversation wasn't going to end any time soon because the moment I would try to end it, Mom would start on another topic. It was the fifth time we were discussing Kajal.

‘She's very good. And she is so beautiful too!' Mom protested.

‘She doesn't even read books!' I declared.

‘So what? I don't also read books. If I am illiterate then you wouldn't consider me your mother or what? You father doesn't know English well, so you wouldn't consider him your father? What stupid thinking is this? She doesn't read novels, huh,' she fumed.

‘Mom,' I tried to cool her down and put my hand on her shoulder. ‘It's not like that. I never said that I wouldn't get married. I will definitely marry someone who understands me. You know how tough it is to understand me, to get used to my eccentricities. It's not about you and Dad. It's about me. Marriage is a big responsibility. I want to be with someone who can understand us and can hold our home together. We have suffered enough. I can't marry this girl who kept talking about her boyfriend. She doesn't have any sense to understand you and Dad, how would she handle me? It's not about being beautiful. You can find thousands of beautiful girls out there. But it doesn't mean that all of them are perfect for marriage. I want a sensible, independent, working girl who has some sense, who can take care of you and Dad in my absence. What would be the point of getting married to a girl who doesn't know anything, for whom everything is just about fun? You know what her main question was?'

‘What?' Mom had calmed down a bit.

‘It's funny. She asked where we would be going for our honeymoon.'

‘What is wrong with that question? When you get married, you will definitely go to some place for your honeymoon.'

‘Mom. That's not the point. Who asks such question at the very first meeting? Of course, Kajal can,' and I laughed.

‘Son, see, you are already thirty. Who will marry if you are older? Twenty-seven to twenty-eight is the perfect age for marriage and you have already crossed it.'

‘Don't worry. First of all, stop saying I am growing old. I am perfectly fine and don't look aged. And you will get the world's best daughter-in-law. Trust me,' I said, looking into her eyes. I continued, ‘Okay, I have to go to Shimla tomorrow. So now I am going to sleep.'

‘Wait, wait. You have to do one more task in Shimla apart from your sightseeing.'

‘And what is that?'

She went into her bedroom and the next minute came back with a card in her hand. I was puzzled. Was it a shopping list? But the card was decorated.

‘It's a marriage card,' she said. I waited for her to continue.

‘It's your dad's friend's son wedding card. They are organizing everything in Shimla, a neutral venue. They have invited us but I told them that we wouldn't be able to come, but our son will be in Shimla on Friday and will attend on our behalf.'

‘Why did you say so? Mom, you know very well that I am not going to Shimla for this. And you know how much I hate attending weddings and parties.'

‘I know, son, but we can't avoid this invitation. He is a very close friend of your dad's and it would be just a matter of half an hour. Go, give the gift to the couple, eat, and come back. It's nothing much.'

‘Okay, I will think about it.' And I took the card and went to sleep.

I left for Shimla in the early morning on Friday. I had already booked a cab the previous night and the driver was expected to reach around 7 am. But my journey began an hour later despite my being fully prepared and waiting for the cab. I had already double-checked the stuff in my bag, counted all the items, and re-checked against my list to ensure I hadn't missed any item.

Mom and Dad came to see me off at the gate. As soon as the cab arrived, I threw the bag inside and sat on the back seat. I had mixed feelings on finally going on vacation. I hadn't listened to Gaurav who had repeatedly suggested that I visit a new place and have fun. But I had ignored his advice, and now I wondered why. For the first few minutes, I wouldn't say I was too excited or even felt anything because of familiar surroundings. But eventually, as the cab kept moving and I left behind the surroundings I was accustomed to, I started feeling a bit excited.

The sky was cloudy and a cold wind awakened my senses. As we moved closer to the mountains, it started getting chillier and I had to put on my jacket. The earth looked green and new and there were masses of bushes lining the highway. I cursed myself for having delayed this trip for so long. I should have done this much earlier. The serpentine road snaked through the mist to steep gorges and valleys. I lowered my neck and stretched to see the other side of the valley I was going through, but the dense foliage covered my vision and trees lined the sides of the roads such that I couldn't see what lay beyond the mountains. I felt exhilarated and the splendour of the place swept me off my feet. I asked the driver to stop the car for a while. I got out of the car and inhaled deeply. Everything seemed new and welcoming. The fragrance of pine dust filled the air. The valleys sprawled, creases along it splitting its peaks and gorges. The trees rose up like tall, old women, their hair loosened in the wind. I moved ahead to get a better view but couldn't see anything. The driver saw me craning my neck and trying hard to see through the mist. He called out, ‘Sir, if you want a better view, just walk ahead a little and you will be surprised at the lovely view.'

‘Really? Or do you just want me to go away so that you can vanish?' I said.

‘What are you saying, sir! I know about the view because so many tourists go to that point. They mostly stop here and walk a little bit. I have accompanied some of them,' he said excitedly.

He accompanied me to the point. It was, indeed, the most marvellous view that extended for miles and miles. I could see mountains in the distance and in between them land that rose and fell gently and was crowded with trees and hedges. It was an amazing feeling to stand at that point with the silence of the mountains all around me and a light breeze caressing my face. For a moment, I was rejuvenated and forgot about all my problems. I remained there for several minutes, breathing the fresh air and releasing all the negativity and sadness of my life. The chill air and the green exuberance made me shout in delight; I was surprised as it had been many years since I shouted because I was simply happy.

I was glad that I had come out of Delhi.

‘Sir, for how many days will you be in Shimla?' the cab driver asked as we resumed our journey.

‘Two to three days. I am not very sure about it right now. Why?' I replied, looking at him in the mirror.

‘If you need a cab on the way back, please call me. I will also be returning to Delhi on Sunday evening,' he said, and gave me his phone number.

‘Okay, sure. What's your name?' I wanted to continue this conversation. Feeling rejuvenated, I wanted to get to know something new. To know about a new person from a new place. Perhaps he could tell me about the best places to visit in Shimla.

‘Sir, Vishu.'

‘Oh. And you belong to?'

‘Sir, I don't know.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Sir, I was brought up in an orphanage. I learnt how to drive near the orphanage itself. So I don't know which place I come and who my parents are.'

‘Oh, I am sorry.' Sometimes we get so involved in our day-to-day problems that we forget there are many people out there who are less fortunate than us and are suffering deeper problems than ours. This helped me put my life in perspective. When I imagined a life without my parents, I felt scared and for a moment, almost forgot my problems. I understood that whenever one faces a problem, one should look at the people who have lived a harder life than one and who have worked harder than one to get what one already has by luck and inheritance. And that will make one forget all of one's problems.

‘Sir, actually the orphanage I was raised in is near Shimla. So I know this place well. And coincidently, tomorrow it's the fiftieth anniversary of the orphanage. I always go there for the anniversary celebration no matter where I am. It was luck that this time I got a passenger for Shimla directly. So I will earn some money and buy sweets and clothes for the children in the orphanage because once I was one of them.' His voice took on a tender, sentimental tone.

It happens. I could easily understand him. It is far easier to say something that is very close to our hearts to a stranger than to say it to someone who has been close to us for a long time. We hope that the stranger would understand us well, that he perhaps wouldn't judge us. And who could understand the cab driver better than me? I had spent the first half-decade of my life chasing after people and feeling unwanted and unloved all the while.

I didn't know what to say at the time. So I chose to remain silent.

After a few minutes, he continued, ‘Sir, have you ever been to an orphanage?'

‘No.'

‘I can understand. You must not get much time out of your busy schedule to go anywhere. In fact, looking at you, it appears that you going on vacation after a long time. Am I right?'

‘Right.'

‘Sir, if you get some time, please visit an orphanage. When you look at the children there, your heart will be filled with an overwhelming sense of peace. You will wonder how life gives us everything and will understand the art of appreciation better than before. Whenever I sit alone, I always think about this. What was my mistake that my parents left me alone in this cruel world? Why did they not take me along with them? But the painful thing is that you never get any answer and you just try to fit into society.'

I just listened to him. And I knew somewhere he was feeling good to speak his heart out. It made me feel the same when I vented to my close friends.

‘Sir, can I make a request?'

‘Yes. Sure.'

‘If you are not too busy tomorrow, please come to my orphanage. We will all celebrate with cake, chocolate, and sweets. It makes the children happy and never lets them feel that they are alone in this world. Tomorrow the gates are open for all.' He gave me a card with the address.

‘Sure, I look forward to visiting it.'

Soon I saw some residential areas, with buildings rising up and a market circling around. I understood that we had entered Shimla.

We reached Shimla much before dusk. I had booked a room in a guesthouse. I didn't have much difficulty in locating it and the cab driver, as it is, knew the path very well. He left me in front of the guesthouse.

It was an exotic-looking building—a palatial wooden castle with state-of-the-art amenities. I checked in and got my room key.

The bellboy picked up my luggage and helped me to my room.

It was perfectly clean and looked great. The first thing I checked out was the bathroom. The basin and everything were very clean. It had become chilly in the room, so I switched on the heater. I kept my bag on the table and walked around, opening the window. My eyes went wide looking at the gorgeous view. The snow-capped mountains dazzled in the last rays of the sun. The calmness and breathtaking beauty gave me new life. I stared at such panorama till I heard a knock. Housekeeping had brought me a fresh towel and the room-service boy came in with the bowl of hot soup that I had ordered at the reception itself.

He asked me in a very polite tone, ‘Sir, are you planning to go anywhere?'

‘I haven't given any thought to it so far. Probably yes. Why?' I asked.

‘Sir, there is a chance of heavy snowfall after dusk. Around 8 pm. So all our guests have been advised not to go too far. Let us know if you need any kind of help.'

‘Sure,' I replied briefly. And he left the room.

I refreshed myself and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt. It was cold by this time. So I also put on a cardigan.

I checked the time. It was still 6.30 pm. I entered the balcony with my soup. Within ten minutes, it started snowing lightly. I rushed inside the room to get out my camera and capture the first snow of my life.

Feeling energetic after such a refreshing welcome to Shimla, I thought I would go out exploring. I bundled up in a coat and gloves and left the guesthouse.

The wide, airy streets were marvellous. I started clicking pictures of whatever I found beautiful, be it leaves, trees, streets, or wooden houses. I strolled from one street to the next. I found myself wandering past delightful rows of old timber-front houses.

Keeping the words of the hotel boy in my mind, I didn't go too far and returned in an hour.

I came back to my room after having dinner in the guesthouse's restaurant. In the quiet, I observed some newness in me. It was probably due to the wonderful view and the deep valley in which I was able to submerge my worries, and the cool breeze swept the sadness off my face.

Next morning, I was fully prepared. I had slept peacefully the previous night, only to wake up when daylight peeked through the edges of the curtains.

I woke up fully, walked to the window, and parted the curtains. The light outside was still not bright but the air was very fresh. I could see the mist across the mountains and the snow-covered trees. The streets were still vacant and there was hardly anyone around. In this quiet hour, I planned for the day. I checked the wedding invitation that I had thrown onto the table. And pondered over where to go.

My phone rang. It was Mom. ‘Hello.'

‘Hello, good morning, beta. How is Shimla?'

‘It's perfect. Thanks for pushing me to go there. It is absolutely stunning.'

‘Great. Do you remember something?'