Something I Never Told You

by Shravya Bhinder

  I cursed myself through his banter for bringing up Adira’s name. I should have waited for Rohit to call me back. If I could, I would have kicked myself in the ass for my impulsiveness. Finally, his time was up; he had to rush to catch his train, so he ended the conversation, telling me that he would let me know if he got to know anything about Adira’s present whereabouts, which I knew was a lie. As I put the phone in my pocket, I wondered why there was still no call from Rohit.

  I reached home at 10.30 p.m. and went straight into my bedroom. ‘Have some food,’ my mother called after me, but I bolted the door from inside, telling her that I was not hungry.

  ‘I have had food at work,’ I lied to her so that she would not worry all night about me and my empty stomach.

  That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, trying to get some rest after a long and tiring day at work, but even sleep was not kind to me. Every time I closed my eyes, Adira’s beautiful face popped up in front of me. I recalled the day we had coffee together. No, it was not a date. Well, it was a date, actually; but not ours.

  CAFE COFFEE DAY

  JANUARY 2016

  My one-sided love story had not progressed at all. Still a timid guy, I used to admire Adira from afar and dreamt of confessing my feelings to her one day. When and if that ‘one day’ would ever come, I was not sure, but I hoped it would come soon enough.

  On a cold Sunday afternoon, Tamanna and Piyush planned a coffee date at Cafe Coffee Day, Lajpat Nagar. I got to know, through my personal eavesdropper, Rohit, that Adira was going to accompany Tamanna to the coffee house. I begged Piyush to take me along and lied to him that I had to meet someone at the market and just needed a ride till there. I remember an icy wind was blowing all day, and the sun made an appearance between the clouds once in a while, making the day bearable.

  ‘It is freezing outside, Adira. Sit with us until your friends pick you up,’ Tamanna insisted. Adira had plans to go to Saket with a couple of her friends who were coming from Mayur Vihar and were running late.

  ‘Ya, have some warm coffee,’ Piyush offered her a seat.

  I also took a position at the table, uninvited of course. The lovebirds looked at me with repulsion in their eyes as soon as I sank into the soft sofa. Meanwhile, Adira was busy on her phone.

  ‘Are you not going? You had to meet someone here, right?’ Piyush could not resist asking me, and he kicked me hard in the foot under the table.

  ‘Ummm . . . my friends are also stuck in traffic,’ I lied with my eyes cast down, pretending to read the menu.

  ‘You can have coffee with us too while you wait,’ Tamanna offered politely, and got up with Piyush to order coffee for all four of us.

  Adira and I were sitting opposite each other at a table next to the big glass windows with a view of the busy street outside. The winter sun now shone weakly through grey clouds. She stared out of the window, and her eyes flickered as the sunlight glittered on her flawless face. This was the first time I was sitting so close to her. The silver bracelet made delicate sounds every time she tapped her phone with her fingers; the sound was like music to me. She was wearing her usual perfume, and its floral smell calmed me like it always did. Someone came in through the door, and cold wind from outside blew in, tossing her hair all over her face. She moved it aside delicately and looked at me. I was so lost in admiring her that I had not even realized that there were two cups of coffee in front of us already. As our eyes locked, the surroundings disappeared. Suddenly, there was a loud noise as someone’s phone buzzed. It was her phone; she got up, leaving me alone at the table, apologizing to Tamanna for not being able to have the coffee as her friends were there to pick her up. I realized then that Tamanna and Piyush were sipping their coffee and cosying up at another table in the corner—it was their date after all.

  I did not mind sitting at that table alone, with two cups of coffee and an empty chair. The cups sat untouched for a while. I kept thinking about her; about her almond-shaped eyes that had looked deeply into mine. I picked up one of the cups and raised it to my lips. Till that day I had been quite fond of coffee, but the first sip made me realize how all other drinks had lost their charm for me. I wanted to taste her: her soul, her mind. I wanted to know her more—more than ever.

  A WEEK LATER, AT WORK

  2017

  The week flew by. All I managed to do was sleep, eat, work and call Rohit a few times during the day to check if he had any news on Adira so far. He claimed to know nothing. I hardly had any time to look up from my laptop at work because of my new role. Every night, my shift was longer than usual, and I took a cab back home after everyone else left. Every morning, I reached the metro station with hope in my heart that I would bump into the girl on whose wrist a silver bracelet sparkled brightly. Each morning, as I boarded the metro, my eyes eagerly searched for her, on the platform, in the train and everywhere else, only to be met with disappointment. I had not seen her at work since that day either, and sometimes I wondered if my mind had played a cruel joke on me. That day when I saw her, was it actually her? I made one or two futile rounds of the ninth floor, and that was about it. The rational part of me was sure that it was no one else but her, and that I was not mistaken. But my lonely heart was blaming my treacherous mind and urged me to forget it all and move on with my life. You have too much on your plate already, my inner voice told me.

  Despite having put so much effort into the project, I was not able to submit it on time. It was the last day of the two-day extensions that Rajbir had quite unwillingly granted only because I was new to the team. Finally, at 6 p.m., with a co-worker’s help, I managed to complete the task. We cross-checked everything before sending it to Rajbir—Thank God! I will leave work on time today—I was relieved.

  At 6.30 p.m. sharp, I received an email from my boss, and my plans came crashing down like a house of cards built under a ceiling fan.

  Hi Raunak,

  I have gone through the email you sent.

  Meet me in meeting room number five at 6.45 p.m.

  Rajbir

  ‘Shit!’ I exclaimed loudly, and apologized immediately for my unruly behaviour at work. I was met with stares from as far as four cubicles away. With apologies pasted all over my face, I sunk as low as I could and reread the email, not that reading it over and over again changed anything.

  It did not look like good news. I could almost sense a termination letter coming my way that evening, for I was not being summoned into the wretched meeting room to be praised. That was the moment when I first felt the power of written words; a few written words from one’s manager could make one crap in one’s pants.

  I picked up my laptop and walked towards meeting room number five at the time mentioned in the email. Rajbir was sitting there busily working on his computer. I felt my stomach churn, and terrifying thoughts found their way into my already-messed-up brain. Are they about to fire me? Oh no! Please no, God. This is my first job! I have not even got my third salary from here—I offered my prayers to as many gods as I could recall—a practice that I had first begun during my board exams for class ten. I knocked on the glass door very gently with my knuckles, and Rajbir signalled me to come inside and take a seat. I took the empty chair next to the only other person in the room. The other guy gave me a warm smile which I barely managed to return.

  ‘Do you have a passport, Raunak?’ Rajbir asked me, and unknowingly pulled the chain on the random train of thoughts which was unnecessarily running through my brain.

  ‘Yes . . . yes, sir.’ I managed a response, wondering why I was being asked about my passport.

  ‘I have a replacement here, Mike,’ Rajbir said into the phone. That was the moment when I got to know that Rajbir was on a call with a new client again.

  Before I could understand anything more, soft sounds at the door broke my concentration. I lifted my head up to see who it was—Adira! As expected, I missed a heartbeat and was sweating behind my ears. She was there. Dressed in a black skirt and crisp white shirt, she look
ed professional. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She stood at the door with another girl who was also dressed in similar attire. The girls looked deeply embarrassed at having disrupted our meeting. Slowly, they walked in, suppressing their smiles, and sank into the two chairs opposite mine—I could see a sheen of sweat on Adira’s face. A few strands of hair had escaped her ponytail and fallen on her face. She looked exquisite. Mike was still talking; no one apart from Rajbir was listening to them. The two girls were scribbling notes for each other on a notepad while the guy smirked, reading them from the corner of his eye.

  Adira looked in my direction and waved gently. I grinned like a monkey and said, ‘Hi.’ This was the exact moment when the call ended, and Rajbir cleared his throat to capture the attention of the rest of the people in the room. Unwillingly, I too had to focus my attention in his direction. He stood at the end of the room as he addressed us all. Adira and her friend adjusted their chairs, so we all sat in a row, and she sat next to me at my workplace; giving me jitters.

  ‘So, I guess most of you know why are we here . . .’ my boss began.

  My eyes wandered towards my neighbour. She had placed her hand on her lap and was examining her fingers. Rajbir paused for a little too long between two statements, and I turned to look at him to know why; only to find him staring back at me arching his left eyebrow—caught in the act. Thankfully, he decided to spare me some embarrassment and left me alone.

  ‘As the fourth person in your batch has decided to leave the organization, I have added a member of my existing team to the transitioning batch. Raunak, you need to submit your passport to the admin team tomorrow, and then we will proceed with your movement into this team,’ he said, and that was it. Everyone took their leave from the room, and as always, I was left alone with Rajbir who explained to me what had just happened.

  A new business had been acquired by the company, and a four-member team had been hired to manage the new clients. Adira was a part of the same team. It was an Australian client, and the new team, along with their managers, was to visit Australia for a month to understand the needs and processes. Due to a personal emergency, one member of the new team had had to leave the company. The client needed only fresh postgraduates to work in the group which was why Rajbir, most unwillingly, had to choose me as a replacement.

  I am going to Australia for a month with Adira! It was all too good to be true. As always, the building of grand dream castles began in my head, without much delay. But first, I had to know who was this other overly-friendly guy with whom the two girls giggled non-stop, even after the meeting ended. He looked like a rival to me, and no matter how bad my luck is, my sixth sense never fails me.

  Half an hour later, I managed to find out that the guy in Adira’s batch was Angad Kapoor—this bit of information was easy to get. He lived in South Extension—I checked his transport roster to get his address and passed it on to Rohit when he finally called me back that same evening. ‘Get all the info that you can,’ I instructed him. Rohit is a very dependable person when it comes to such detective-like activities. The next day I knew everything I wanted to know about him.

  Angad Kapoor

  Son of Mr Samarth Kapoor, Advocate, High Court:

  Mr Kapoor and his only son were worth so much money that Angad did not need to be working in the company that he was working for. Advocate Samarth Kapoor was a very well-known face in Delhi’s social circuit as well. Angad’s mother was a housewife. Angad had studied in London and had recently come back to India. He wanted to start a consulting firm of his own and decided to work at a similar place to understand what he was getting into.

  He knew Adira only at work and had a colourful reputation. Fond of luxury cars, he drove a black BMW X5 to work, and also owned a custom Audi R8.

  There was a little more information about his family which Rohit said was juicy but not of any use to us. I knew all that I had to know about him. Not that it made any difference as he was quite far ahead of me in the game. He and Adira took most of their breaks together at work, and he sometimes even dropped her home. ‘And by the way, he’s a charmer!’ Rohit had teased me before hanging up, and I cursed him in my mother tongue, in whispers, so that my mother didn’t hear.

  INDIRA GANDHI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, NEW DELHI

  TWO WEEKS LATER (2017)

  The rest of the team was already in Australia. I was the last person to be picked for the team, and the paperwork had taken forever, so they had to leave without me three days ago. My ticket and visa had arrived the evening before, and I was at the airport waiting to board my flight. I arrived there a little early and had to kill time by roaming around. Later, after obtaining my boarding pass, I was free from my luggage and walked into a bookstore. I found many romance books beautifully lined up on the shelves but decided to pick up a book from the humour section instead. It was a satire on Godmen in India and had a quirky cover. It was going to be a long flight, and the baba on the cover looked like a worthy companion.

  Finally, at 9 a.m., I boarded my Jet Airways flight. It was till Singapore, where I was going to board a second plane which would take me to Tullamarine Airport, Melbourne.

  With all the last-minute formalities and late-night packing, I had not managed to get enough sleep the previous night. My mother had woken me up an hour before the time that I asked her to as she feared I might miss my first international flight. This had further shortened my already short nap. The doors closed, I put my mobile phone in flight mode and fastened my seat belt, hoping to catch up on some sleep before I began reading the book. The announcements started, and the flight attendants went through their drill. It was my first ever international flight—but instead of being happy and taking tens and hundreds of selfies like most of the other passengers, I was bracing myself for the take-off. I knew that kids howled when taking off due to a change in the air pressure. Next to me was a family with a small child who looked angelic and continuously gave me a toothless smile. The plane finally began to ascend.

  Fortunately, the child’s mother was well prepared. She stuffed the child’s mouth with a milk bottle, and he did not cry during take-off, but many other babies did. We flew away from Delhi, and sleep flew away from my eyes. I took out my book and began to read as sleeping was out of the question after all the hustle and bustle. The gang of babies was at work non-stop until we landed.

  THE TINY TRANSIT

  CHANGI AIRPORT

  I had very little time to explore Changi airport but I can tell you that it is anything but boring. It is proof that airports don’t necessarily have to just be a complex of runways and buildings like most airports in the world are.

  I wandered aimlessly for some half an hour while deciding on what to eat and got a sneak peek of its butterfly habitat and pool. After I grabbed a quick warm meal at one of the fast food restaurants, I headed back to my terminal. The place was buzzing with people from around the globe who were occupied in amusements like movie theatres, snooze lounges, spas and everything else that one can imagine. I got so engrossed in looking around that I lost my way back to my terminal and had to seek help from a staff member in a pink and purple blazer. She navigated through her iPad and gave me directions. Thankfully, I was where I was supposed to be just in time to catch the flight.

  The first leg of my journey was over, and I was only six and a half hours away from Adira. I finished reading my book in the waiting area. It was nearly time for the next flight. I prayed to God for no more babies to be close to where I was seated as I was in dire need of some sleep.

  Thankfully, I was seated in the fourth row. The seats next to me were all empty. The flight was under-booked. Despite the lack of leg room, I managed to make myself comfortable by propping up my legs. I unpacked the blanket, adjusted the small pillows under my back and wandered into the world of my dreams.

  TULLAMARINE AIRPORT, MELBOURNE

  I collected my luggage from the belt—two black suitcases—and I already had a backpack. Once I managed to get it all,
I headed out. As per the last information shared with me by the travel team in India, a chauffeur from the company was to pick me up and drop me at the apartment-hotel where everyone else was staying.

  For about the tenth time I counted my bags standing alongside the taxi belt—one, two, three. Honestly, had I lost anything during transit or while waiting for the chauffeur, it would have made a great story to tell to the future generations but nothing of that sort happened. By the time my plane landed, my stomach was doing flips and as I arrived at the exit gate nervousness took over me. For the first time in my life I was going to be exposed to a little taste of what the real world is like, away from friends and family; I was anxious to finally grow up.

  As I stood waiting for a taxi outside of the airport, it was immediately apparent to me that Melbourne was something else, it was not like any place that I had been before. At the airport, it seemed like everyone there was in a hurry to get to another place. After around ten minutes, I was greeted by an Indian guy who was impeccably dressed in a grey suit. He held my name-card which had a wrong spelling of my name on it. He greeted me in limited yet accented English and shook my hand. I asked him his name, ‘Gurjeet Singh, sir,’ he said, and bent down to pick up my bags.

  ‘Are you really a chauffeur?’ I asked him as we hit the road.

  ‘Yes, sir’ he replied with pride, and then went on to explain. ‘There is nothing wrong with any job, sir. I drive cabs as it pays well. Better than my previous job. Moreover, I like the feeling of being my own boss,’ he told me without taking his eyes off the road.

  ‘Yes, I agree,’ I said, a little embarrassed by my question. No job is small; no role is insignificant. Every position has its importance in the world. Your post doesn’t define you; you define yourself. My grandfather’s words came back to me. He had started work as a mason and eventually left property worth crores for his family—all because of his hard work and determination. What happened to the property worth crores? Well, that is a different story.