‘Come finish the rest of your samosa,’ Ankur suggested as he helped himself to it, knowing fully well Souvik probably would not eat anything. For days.
Ankur would have wanted to say sympathetic things to console his heartbroken friend, but he knew Souvik. The guy preferred silence. Even in mourning.
Ankur went to the counter to pay the bill and returned to find Souvik gone. The sensitive Bengali wanted to be by himself. It was something he had to get used to.
Twenty-Eight
Ankur didn’t quite like being woken up with a rude shake, yet each time Vyas did that, Ankur knew it was important. Actually, he disliked anyone barging into his room early in the morning, more since Ankur always slept in, what looked like a rock climbing position.
‘Arise and awake,’ Vyas declared gallantly,’…and stop not…till the bathroom is reached.’ Even as a rather groggy Ankur got up and looked at his bean pole of a friend through his half shut eyes, Vyas announced, ‘The Dean has called for you. Rise and shine!’ Ankur sat up straight.
‘The Dean?’ Ankur repeated dazed. As Ankur scrambled out of bed he tried not to think of ominous reasons for his exclusive rendezvous with the head of the law department. He had precisely half an hour to get fully dressed and present himself in the Dean’s office before class began.
‘Sir you called for me?’ said Ankur as he entered the plush office of the Dean. Against the tall wooden showcase with an array of books, Ankur looked diminutive. And for a change, the five foot Dean, seemed to give him company.
‘I wonder if you are aware…,’ the Dean began. God! Thought Ankur. Aware. Aware of what?! He ought to be aware of something to justify standing in the Dean’s office, God! How he hated sentences that began like that!
‘I wonder if you are aware of the upcoming…college festival,’ the Dean completed his sentence. Ankur almost heaved a sigh. Feeling the tension from his body easing out, Ankur relaxed. The Dean, being a talkative man, proceeded to lecture his one member audience on the very low participation of the final year students in the college festival. Which in other words implied that the final year students hardly ever went out looking for sponsorships. Which of course meant that the poor college that spent the whole year working hard to fleece the students was actually sometimes forced to pay out of its rather deep pockets. This indeed was nothing short of a catastrophe. Hence it was decided that this year’s college festival would be exclusively run by students.
Who, of course, had to immediately begin running after sponsors. All this since in the long ‘run’ it would help a student in his ‘curry-er’. Indeed, thought Ankur. The Dean certainly had lofty ambitions for the law graduates.
Opening bhelpuri stalls and selling rock concert tickets ought to be viable alternate career options.
After what seemed like a few centuries, Ankur finally found himself in class, narrating his tale of woe to a group of disinterested listeners. ‘The most annoying thing is that, of all the final year students he had to think of me, to arrange for sponsorships,’ Ankur said almost whining. ‘Probably he’s going by your name. Ankur means to germinate. The Dean wants you to germinate new ideas,’ Vyas said, gesturing theatrically.
‘Wow!! In that case had my name been “Lakshmipathi Ameerchand” the Dean would have wanted me to fund the festival,’ Ankur snorted, hardly amused.
‘Ankur my friend,’ said Vyas getting up from the semicircle that the guys had formed sitting on the desks and benches, ‘I can see that the pressure has already gotten to you. Whatever little humour you possessed has been wiped clean. Germinating a few grey cells will be a good idea!’
Twenty-Nine
Sonali and Ankur hardly spoke these days. He had helped her during her difficult time with Rohit, had invited her for his Holi party and had shared the same table with her in the library while copying notes. Yet even as he sat copying notes, Ankur struggled to erase all the hurt he had been through. He had helped her yes, even visited her at her place, but he still had the privilege to sulk. That was the least he could do. To safeguard his male ego.
Sonali, apparently, had also noticed. She tried striking up conversations with him only to receive polite yet curt replies. Ankur was still piqued. He intended to let her know. His male ego vowed that he could never love a girl who before his own eyes went around with another man. But then again a small voice informed him, that for Sonali, Rohit was just a friend. She was just repaying kindness.
Being an Arien, the infant in him couldn’t believe thatSonali could place anyone above him. Especially another male.
Being in the final year with enough legal documents to go deep sea diving in, Ankur realised one thing. A man needs a woman to motivate him to look good. Now both Souvik and he had lost their women. Probably that’s why they were so lost themselves.
‘Ankur wait!’ Sonali called out one afternoon, after class. Ankur stopped but didn’t turn around. He had done enough spinning around for Sonali. That probably explained the dull headache and heartache he got when he was around her.
‘Ankur, I made this card for you,’ Sonali said handing him a neat light blue card. There was a cute sketch of a chubby little girl holding a flower and looking down. Sonali was exceptionally good at drawing. Just as she was exceptionally good at everything else. Like tormentinghim.
‘I made this card, that day after you left. It was amazing that day on the terrace. I’ll always be grateful that you came,’ Sonali said. Ankur remained silent. He was going to do his best impersonation of Jaishree. He simply looked at the card. Sonali had neatly shaded the drawing with a well sharpened pencil. Which she had probably flicked from her kid brother’s geometry box. It was a beautiful sketch.
Ankur continued to look at the card for some time before opening it. Sonali stood before him. Inside there were four lines addressed to him. It was a small poem, that read:
Friendship is a blessing,
As per the Divine Law,
The Lioness is Truly sorry,
As she stretches out her humble paw.
Ankur involuntarily broke into a smile. ‘You got Souvik to write this for you?’ he asked in a voice laced with indulgence. Her Majesty was offended. ‘You think I can’t write four original lines!’ Sonali snapped in mock anger, all traces of humility vanishing. Ankur laughed.
‘Four original lines, those are three separate words,’ he said playfully and then suddenly realised that he ought to be doing something else. Yes of course, the sulking.Ankur was silent once more. Sonali sensed this and then she actually pulled her tiny ears placed on either side of her head and said, ‘Ankur I’m really, truly, honestly sorry.’ The use of different adjectives was used to convey her sincerity. Ankur wasn’t particularly impressed.
‘Ankur I know you must be thinking I’m a selfish, mean, hard hearted person.’ ‘No it’s not that,’ interrupted Ankur even as he was silently agreeing. ‘Then what is it?’ asked Sonali almost pleading. Ankur hated it when Sonali did that. It made him feel just so guilty.
‘Sonali…I just need some time…okay?’ Ankur said almost irritated as he moved away.
Ankur sat alone by himself in the canteen. Caroline’s visit was probably the last time the group had sat together. And that was a month ago. The gang was disintegrating, Ankur thought sadly. Souvik had retreated into a shell ever since that fateful night and the elusive Jaishree had become a degree more elusive. If Ankur could decipher right, he thought he had seen Jaishree’s eyes a little swollen one morning.
Even Vyas looked stressed out with Caroline ready to dig into his bulging pockets each time she wanted some accessory. Earrings. Alipstick. And probably even a ladder, Ankur thought with a wry smile.
Then there was Pavan. The guy was also strangely lying low. Last heard was that Pavan had done his best in asserting his right as a senior, during the freshers’ party. However, the final year student had ended up with lessons instead. Pavan, much to his bewilderment, came close to getting ragged himself. It was a lot like the sex education classes Ankur had at school. The embarrassed teacher conducting the class used to get educated herself in the process. School, Ankur thought and chuckled. That really seemed long ago. And he could hardly believe that he was in the final year of college now.
In a couple of months, he would be leaving it all. The noise in the classrooms, the cold drinks in the canteen and the clutter of the hostel. Ankur missed the fact that he no longer lived in a dormitory, like in the first year. He had a room of his own now. And a computer. In fact Ankur had been doing a lot of online chatting these days. It was strange that Ankur spoke to people sitting miles away more frequently than he did with a fellow law student in the next room.
He was made aware of the presence of other living beings only when he visited the common bathroom on his floor. Vyas still had the habit of singing with the sound of running water providing the background music. While Pavan would nonchalantly walk about in his towel his hairy chest confirming that evolution had left him behind.
Souvik would quite obviously lather himself luxuriously, the smell of clean soap filling the bathroom while Ankur himself considered joining the water works department, especially when he went about closing taps left half open. Bizarre as it was, Ankur would even miss the bathroom. The place where all beings felt a mutual empathy and sympathy. And the place where Ankur spent most of his time as a first year student. Especially the times when he would dress to impress Sonali. Which was always.
Ankur thought of his life in college. Having fresh roasted corn or
makka bhutta
just outside the campus gates. The chorus of shut ups that Ankur, Vyas and Pavan would receive for their outlandish suggestions for class picnics. The hoarse voices singing woefully off key notes during games of
antakshari
and the lively debates they would have in Professor Mahapatra’s class. Ankur would miss it all.
Thirty
‘Jaishree!’ Souvik said softly when he could finally recover from the news. Jaishree turned to look at Souvik. Her expression revealed that she was expecting to be stopped and questioned by Souvik. The slightly pained expression on her face was asking to be questioned. But Souvik was in no mood to ask any questions. Instead, he was here to make a declaration.
‘Jaishree…I love you!’ he suddenly blurted out probably embarrassing even the tree beneath which they were standing. Souvik had consciously decided to avoid Jaishree but he couldn’t stop himself when he saw her one evening, returning from the stationary shop on campus.
There was a moment of stunned silence. Souvik himself was stunned. He had never thought he would be confessing his feelings in such a sudden and blunt manner. His romantic heart, if it could only have found a more appropriate place, time and manner instead of simply standing on the pavement of the campus road.
Jaishree stood silent.
It was as if the impact of the declaration had made the quiet Jaishree turn mute. Souvik knew he was dumb. Now Jaishree was mute. They simply seemed made for each other.
‘Souvik,’ Jaishree said finally, even as Souvik stopped breathing. ‘Same to you.’
Now what was that?! It seemed as if Jaishree had mistaken Souvik’s confession of love, for a festival greeting. Even the pretty dancer realised her grammatical and contextual error and hence she hastily amended by saying, ‘I mean… same here!’
The confused thoughts dancing in Souvik’s mind came to a standstill. Then a dance began again, this time, his heart’s. Souvik suddenly wasn’t sure what he should do first. Was he to smile, laugh, run back to his hostel and shout his lungs out or break into a dance before the one girl, whose eyes, smile, hair always made him dance?
‘Thank you Jaishree, thank you!!!’ Souvik found himself saying and he almost took her hand, ready to kiss it. Then realising what he was doing, Souvik embarrassed himself and probably every final year student by simply jumping up and down. Jaishree’s confession made Souvik feel like a cosmonaut floating in space. He suddenly felt weightless. A load had certainly lifted off his heart.
Jaishree was also broadly smiling. It was touching to see Souvik that way. But suddenly Jaishree’s smile disappeared. ‘Souvik…,’ she said again, in a low slightly helpless tone. ‘I guess you know about that marriage proposal for me.’ Souvik also suddenly became serious, but then he smiled again. ‘At least now I know that you like me.’
Without a doubt, everything happened for the best. The best part being that the shy Souvik would otherwise never have brought himself to propose to the quiet Jaishree. Even the reticent Jaishree, only in retrospect realised her feelings for Souvik. Though now Souvik knew that Jaishree knew that he had feelings for her. Phew! Yet if it were not for the sudden arrival of a new element, their fascination for each other could have ended up as just a memorable college crush.