A Handful of Sunshine

by Vikram Bhatt

  Having pushed the maintenance question out of the way, we moved on to other queries. What was she going to do while I was out filming in Switzerland? Perhaps she could come the day after I finished filming? What was she going to do in Mumbai while I was gone then? She could come with me in that case and do some sightseeing while we filmed. What was the point of being together in Switzerland if the together things were not going to be done together?

  Checkmate!

  She should choose whatever she wanted and I would be happy with it, I told her, a tad exhausted. Come after my filming was done? She had finally come to a conclusion and I quickly agreed.

  But did I think the questions were done? Not a chance!

  Was I thinking that she was going to share the room with me? I would suppose so, I mumbled. Did I think she was that kind of a girl? No, I did not. She would have a room to herself. It was the decent thing to do, wasn’t it? It certainly was.

  When Prady heard me deal with these difficult negotiations, he made a face and pontificated, ‘Behind every beautiful woman, there is a man who is bored of her!’ I had no idea what the connection could be until he lazily elaborated, ‘You are going to be that man soon.’

  He was wrong.

  When it came to Mira, these little idiosyncrasies of hers were exactly what I would think about at an inappropriate moment, like when I was in a client presentation meeting, and smile to myself. Also, when I wanted to tell her that I loved her, the word ‘love’ somehow did not seem enough. It felt like I was a man with a tune in my head and did not have the skill to sing it out loud. I was a wordsmith running out of words.

  Fortunately for me, Mira had a talent for listening to my unsung song and hearing my unsaid words. It was the perfect fit.

  The crew had finished with the filming and left the day before, and I had spent the day figuring out the together things we could do. I had surprised myself here as I knew I put together some fairly decent ‘together time’.

  The early morning sun flooded through the ornate skylight above and burned white the marble flooring of the lobby at the Victoria Jungfrau Hotel. I sat at the coffee shop opposite, my eyes on the revolving doors and my heart pounding. Every time I met Mira, it felt like I was meeting her for the first time. Her text message to me had said, ‘Five minutes away.’

  For me they were the longest five minutes.

  Time was moving so slowly!

  And then, it stopped altogether.

  I watched her walk through the revolving doors, her eyes searching for me. She stepped on to the glimmering white marble, and in that ethereal light from the skylight she looked like an angel that God had sent to me. My senses were fully tuned to her, the sound of her clicking heels the only sound in the room for me. It seemed to find a unique rhythm with my heart. When her eyes sought me out, she stopped walking. She smiled. She did not move and I did not stand up. It felt like everything we had ever done in our lives was just to make this one moment happen. This one exceptional moment that gave meaning to an entire lifetime. Then she ran towards me, I stood up, she was in my arms, we hugged, we kissed and I am quite certain that I saw the hint of a tear in her eye.

  ‘Rest? What do you mean?’ she said, her eyes wide in mock horror. ‘I haven’t come here to rest!’

  We sat at a little rosticceria by Lake Thun. It was a bright, clear day and the lake looked bluer than I had seen in the past few days. Was it welcoming Mira, perhaps?

  ‘You’ve had an all-night flight. Aren’t you tired?’ I asked her gently.

  She shook her head, ‘I am not going to spend even a moment away from this world and you. I have taken it easy all my life. It’s time to be awake and alive!’

  I looked into her beautiful brown eyes and asked myself, ‘How did I get this lucky?’ This beautiful girl with all her madness was mine, only mine, all mine!

  ‘So Mr Tour Guide, what’s the most exciting together thing that you have planned for us?’ she asked, wiping her cute mouth with the serviette.

  ‘Jungfrau!’ I announced proudly, happy I had done the planning. If you were in Switzerland, that’s where you’d have to start.

  ‘You mean the mountain?’

  ‘Yes, Jungfrau is one of the highest peaks in Europe. We can go all the way up to the peak. There is a train that goes up there. It will be a romantic ride.’

  She seemed happy with the decision. ‘Jungfrau it is!’ she exclaimed excitedly, like a little girl.

  I laughed.

  We settled into our roles for the day. I was the designated tour guide and Mira was easily the most high-maintenance client any tour guide could ever have! We rode the car that I had rented to Grindelwald, which was the much longer route, but Mira wanted to see the north face of the Eiger mountain.

  ‘You know of the Eiger?’ I was pretty amazed with her knowledge of geography.

  ‘Of course! Have you not heard of The Eiger Sanction?’ She seemed almost ashamed of me.

  ‘You mean the film? Wow, you’re a Clint Eastwood fan?’ This girl was full of surprises.

  ‘No, but my father loves Clint Eastwood. What would he think of me if I told him that I went by the Eiger but did not really see it? Wouldn’t he be ashamed of me?’

  ‘So are we taking the longer route so that you can tell your father that you saw the north face of the Eiger?’

  ‘Yes, of course! Need my share of brownie points,’ she responded in her unique light-hearted fashion.

  ‘Do you know the train to Jungfrau goes through the Eiger? You could have told your father you burrowed through the Eiger. He would have been more proud of you than Clint Eastwood’s father is of him.’ I grinned.

  She made a face, leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  ‘Do tour guides get kisses from pretty clients?’ I asked cheekily.

  ‘If they are the stuff of dreams,’ she answered dreamily.

  Suddenly the longer route seemed like a good idea.

  An hour later, we caught sight of the road sign that pointed us towards Grindelwald railway station. It was now going to be a train ride up the mountain.

  Then as we began the train journey up the mountain, Mira became steadily quieter. I asked her if something was the matter, but she smiled back and assured me that she was fine. Yet, I could make out there was definitely something wrong. Her face seemed to turn a shade paler. Was Mira hiding something from me or was she a victim of fierce mood swings? I was beginning to grow concerned.

  By the time we reached the glass lookout at the Jungfrau, Mira had stopped talking or even looking at me. I could see that her breath was coming in short gasps. I moved to her, and held her by her arms. Something told me that she needed to steady herself. I was right. She collapsed in my arms, unconscious!

  I was shocked! Holding her in my arms, I began to wonder what to do. I laid her down on the floor of the lookout as I couldn’t hold her any longer. This also naturally created a panic amongst the people around. What the hell was wrong with Mira? Did she have an illness, a condition of which I was unaware? Or was this a symptom of something far graver?

  The medics arrived and interrupted my string of worried thoughts. They helped me put Mira on to a stretcher and carried her to a first aid centre atop the mountain post.

  I was grateful for the help but little did I realize there was more to add to my already troubled mind. ‘Does she have allergies?’ The doctor handed me a form with a long list of details I needed to fill in. I had no knowledge of Mira’s medical history. Hell, this was the girl I loved and it hit me that I knew so little about her!

  ‘It looks like a panic attack. I could give her an alprazolam injection, though I would much rather she wakes up and takes a pill. Give her five minutes.’ The doctor did not seem worried and that reassured me in some way. ‘This happens very often up here. People who are not used to heights find it hard,’ she explained.

  Then, as if on cue, Mira opened her eyes.

  I smiled at her and said, ‘It’s okay, Mira, you’re all
right.’

  It took her a moment to register what was going on. Then she pulled herself out of the bed and held my hand really tight. ‘What’s happening to me, Veer? Why am I here?’ She sounded disoriented and petrified on seeing a doctor staring at her.

  ‘You had a panic attack, that’s all,’ the doctor comforted Mira, smiling her feel-good smile.

  I nodded.

  ‘Are you afraid of heights?’ the doctor asked.

  ‘I have never been. However, I do remember being steadily filled with fear as the train climbed the mountain.’ Mira’s voice had stopped quivering and she seemed more in control.

  ‘I suggest a hot cup of coffee and a ride down on the next available train,’ the doctor concluded.

  We couldn’t have agreed more.

  ‘I suppose it was just the whole aeroplane ride, the lack of sleep and then going up the mountain. I think that’s what did me in.’ Mira had been saying this over and over again. Perhaps it was the look on my face that was making her go on repeat mode.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I reassured her, patting her arm.

  We had decided to have an early dinner at a little bistro overlooking Lake Brienz. The early evening had brought a nip in the air with it, and the deep blue lake seemed to revel in the mild wind that caressed its surface.

  ‘Did I scare you, Veer? I am sorry!’ She held my hand gently; her fingers seemed to glow in the candlelight.

  ‘Yes, you did scare me, but let it go, Mira. Just enjoy the meal,’ I had been suppressing an inexplicable resentment and I had no clue why.

  ‘Let what go?’ she pursued.

  ‘This . . . what happened this morning. I am fine and I am happy and so are you.’ I was trying my best to be affable; I was hoping I was doing a good job of it.

  ‘I can see you are not fine. Why don’t you tell me about it?’ Her quick temper was surfacing again.

  Snap!

  ‘Tell you about what? That you lay there unconscious and I had no idea why? Here is a girl I love and I know nothing about her problems, her fears, her anxieties?’

  ‘You are shouting!’ she said, glaring at me. I realized she was right, but I was beyond caring.

  ‘I want to know your fears, your nightmares, your secrets, your lies. I don’t give a rat’s arse about the picture-perfect Mira and her picture-perfect family. You are what you hide, Mira, not what you reveal!’

  Everyone in the restaurant had begun to stare, and I could see the hint of angry tears in Mira’s eyes. She let the fork she was holding drop from her hand and hit the table with a loud clang. Then she stood up, chucking the napkin aside, and turned to me, ‘Well, you have just given me a clear picture of what you have been hiding all along, you jerk!’

  I did not care to look up to acknowledge her fiery comeback.

  She glared at me a second longer before she walked out of the door.

  This was so screwed up!

  I had lost my appetite and realized it was pointless sitting all alone in a romantic bistro seething with rage. I paid for the unsavoured meal and decided to walk the mile or so to the hotel.

  The wind across the lake had picked up steadily and hit square against my chest, but it did not deter my angry pace. The howling sound, however, made for an unlikely companion.

  By the time I reached the hotel, much of my anger had receded and gradually given way to sorrow in the deep abyss of my heart. I had messed things up and now she was gone. I had always been emotionally challenged when it came to expressing how I felt, but this was a new low for me.

  I noticed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging outside the door of her hotel room on the way to mine. I stopped and knocked on her door. She answered the door leaving the chain lock on, allowing a gap of only six inches through which I could see her. She had been crying; her eyes were swollen and red. I felt like the jerk she’d called me a few hours back at the restaurant.

  ‘I am sorry,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Get lost!’

  She slammed the door shut on my face even before the words could come out through that little six-inch gap. I stood there feeling the intensity of her resentment but was allowed only a moment by the emotional voyeur, the housekeeping lady standing and staring across from the end of the corridor.

  I tucked my head into my shirt and made for my room. Perhaps it was a night meant for getting roaring drunk and being ruthlessly unhappy. The mini bar was pretty well stocked and the little bottles, which probably were the best invention of Mr Jack Daniels, quickly found their way into my insides and burned it up, though they were incapable of giving me any respite from the weight on my chest.

  It was after I had helped myself to another of Mr Daniels’ products that I heard a knock on the door. It was Mira. I stood at the door, staring at her, at an utter loss for words.

  ‘You know what is the worst thing about you, Veer?’ Mira seemed calmer now. Her question threw me into a state of confusion; there were so many worst things about me, so I did not which one she was talking about. Discretion was the better part of valour and silence was the best part of that discretion.

  ‘Hurting someone comes easily to you but making amends for the pain you cause seems like something you don’t know how to do. On the one hand you were troubled because I fell unconscious, but on the other, you weren’t in the least bit concerned that I walked away from the restaurant alone. Are you some kind of emotional cretin?’

  My drunken mind couldn’t find an answer to her spotless logic.

  ‘I love you, Mira.’ There! I had said it! And now it was out there hanging between the two of us.

  She stared at me like I was a moron who had no sense of timing.

  I stood there feeling like a moron who had no sense of timing.

  The housekeeping woman passed by again; she was obviously involved in the scene now and I am certain she was also convinced that I was a moron who had no sense of timing.

  ‘What did you say?’ she almost whispered, her anger gone.

  ‘I said I love you.’ Moron or no moron, this was it.

  ‘Are you going to let me into the room or is this the way we are going to be doing this?’ She looked at me with those eyes of hers that had the sparkle of a million stars.

  ‘Doing this?’ I asked. I had passed the moron test with flying colours.

  She kissed me hard and slid easily into my arms. I kicked the door shut with a gentle push of my leg. The housekeeping woman had better be content with the kiss. She was not getting any more.

  Mira kissed me with a fire that seemed to come from her core, and I found myself matching her fire—her lips on mine, tugging gently, even biting. In that moment I felt what she felt—the fear of losing each other.

  ‘Make love to me, Veer,’ Mira said looking deep into my eyes, the shimmer of passion in her tears. For years to come I would remember that day and those eyes and the way they’d looked at me. Mira’s eyes seemed to knock on a door inside my heart that I did not even know existed.

  And that part of my heart opened the door to Mira; she tiptoed in, never to leave again.

  MIRA

  Monday night

  I wanted him to touch me everywhere at once. I wanted to be closer to him than our bodies would allow. I wanted him to just envelope my body with his fire. Nothing felt awkward, nothing felt wrong. It was all just meant to be.

  He undressed me and I him with an electric urgency. Our mouths were not ready to part even for a fraction of a second. I shivered as I felt his hand on my waist and in the next instant he pushed me against the wall. He held my hands in his and then pulled himself away from me.

  ‘I have dreamed of this moment for weeks now, Mira, and I don’t want it to be over soon. I want it to go on all night.’ His voice was deep and his eyes had turned a deeper shade with craving.

  I surrendered to him, to whatever he wanted to do with me and for however long. I was his now and forever.

  This time he moved slowly and his lips found mine with the gentleness of love. We stood
there in our nakedness, not hurrying but believing that time had stood still for us and would not move till we allowed it to go further.

  He lifted me with ease and lay me down on the bed.

  ‘Look into my eyes, Mira, look deep into them. I want our souls to make love.’

  I understood what he meant. He pushed himself deep inside me and never looked away, I did not look away either. We were one, entwined—mind, body and soul. Veer and Mira. I had never felt this kind of oneness. If this was not the closest thing to god, then nothing was god on this planet.

  And then came the waves, one after the other, washing over my being and crashing against the rocky shores of my desire. Yet, we looked at each other and never looked away. I could see in his eyes that he loved me; I could see a tomorrow, sunshine, a home, a family, a life, and what was more, I could see myself in his eyes. I saw the Mira he saw, and when I saw that Mira I found myself humbled. That Mira was way more beautiful than the real one. Veer’s Mira was the Mira I wanted to be, always.

  When we were spent, we slept.

  The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes were the rays of the late morning sun stealing in through the carelessly drawn blinds. They seemed to scatter all over the room in little patches of yellow gold and I did find one such patch on my face, which was probably the reason why my eyes had opened to the world.

  When I looked next to me I found Veer staring at me, smiling.

  ‘You know, it’s a little creepy to find a man staring at you when you open your eyes,’ I said groggily as I threw my arm around him.

  ‘Man? Is that what a lover is called once the night is gone and all his love has been devoured?’ he mocked.

  I nodded and smiled. He looked back at me with a smile, more in his eyes than on his face.