The train journey was going to be a long one as our train had already been late and was now being pushed even further. We were going to be in the train for the whole night. It was just a five hour journey but had been extended.
The journey started, with Shalini in some other coach and me practically forgetting about my trip. I sat there, idle, nothing to do and gradually dosed off. When I woke up, around a couple of hours later, the train was still, and sitting with us was the Sharma family. The two families had taken an instant liking to each other. Sharma uncle noticed that my eyes had opened and said
“Bete, goto sleep. Young kids need sleep.”
He smiled. I hated him more than I hated anything in the world. I got up and put on my cap and glasses, and tried to act grown up. Shalini was sitting right in front of me, looking out of the window, oblivious of my presence. And I was looking at her. Oblivious of anyone else’s presence. This continued for around an hour and then the sun went down and it became dark so she stopped looking out of the window. I thought I had a chance to talk to her but she closed her eyes and lay still. I continued what I was doing.
The Sharma family had exchanged their seats on the train and now we were on the same coach. There was a certain uneasiness in the family, especially Sharma aunty, but I could not figure what it was. Plus, there were better things to think about. An hour later, Shalini was woken up and the two families shared the food they had packed.
So far we had not said a word to each other. We finished the aaloo poori in about half an hour and it was time to goto sleep. I wanted to goto the top berth and sleep but Mr. Sharma again said that little kids should not sleep on the top as they might fall. My mother tried to defend me by saying that I was not a little kid but a ‘big boy’. A big boy who had to be saved by his mother. And all this happened right in front of Shalini.
Damn.
I was not in a mood to fight. So I quietly slept on the bottom turf, dad on the top turf and mom in the middle one. The same was repeated in their family. The lights were switched off. I removed my cap and kept it right next to me, just besides my sunglasses, just in case I woke up at night and saw Shalini. I dozed off.
I think I had been sleeping for 3 hours, though you can never be sure of such things, when a gentle hand covered my mouth. My eyes opened, terrified of what was happening when I saw Shalini in front of me. Her one finger on her lips, and the other one on my mouth. She removed the one from my mouth and held my hand and pulled me out of my berth. And she spoke, “Let’s go.”
I took my cap and glasses with me. And we moved out of our little cabin and went near the open door of the train. The train was moving at a speed I had only imagined to ride my bike at, the door was open and the night was beautifully lit by a half moon. She went and sat at the open door, her legs hanging outside. Her hair flowing all over. I was a brave heart myself. I mean, I used to pick up rats, lizards, insects and all other gross things. But never would I be sitting at the gate of a train moving at a speed of more than 70 kmph with my legs out. Haha, I was a daredevil, not a fool.
Just then she looked back and said spoke again: “Sit here?”
She had such a serene look around her. I could not say no. I had to prove to someone in the Sharma family that I was not a boy but was a man. I tiptoed and sat next to her. First thing, my cap flew off. I stretched my hand but I was never going to catch it. She giggled. I smiled the ‘embarrassed smile’. She looked into my eyes and spoke. “You look better without it. And please do not take out those sunglasses now. I know you were staring at me the whole day. They are not as dark as you think they are.”
She smiled and then looked away. Her hair were now on her face and she moved them and put them behind her ear but they struggled their way back and she repeated the process. It was beautiful. She had a serene smile on her face. A smile which showed achievement, a smile which showed confidence. The train passed over a bridge and we could see the water beneath our feet and the moon shining in it. We sat like that for I don’t know how many minutes.
She pointed towards the sky and spoke: “Don’t you wish you were like an aeroplane? Free to wander about anywhere you want.” Me: “I don’t know. I am kind of scared of heights.” I spoke and I knew it was the wrong thing to say.
She looked at me, giggled some more and got up ready to leave. I could not understand what had just happened and followed her back to our respective berths. That was the first time in my life I did not sleep at night. Something had happened. And that something kept me up all night. And no, it was not the fact that I had lost my cap. I had studied in a boy’s school my entire life and it being the early nineties, there were no other places where you could meet girls. So my interaction with them was limited to my female cousins, and some family friend’s daughters who used to tie me a rakhi every year. So I had never really had a ‘girl’ friend, or even a female friend. In school, we had heard stories about some of the popular guys going for walks with them but that was also purely hear say. No one I had known personally had ever interacted with a girl in a non sisterly manner. And then, this happened. And that too, to me.
Lots of thoughts crossed my head that day as I lay in my lower berth. I admit that the thoughts started with the lost cap but then they gradually took more substance. I tried to look at Shalini but she had covered her face with a blanket. My eyes strained to have one more look at her, just to see her smile once more, just to hear her talk once more. I looked at the blanket she was in and kept smiling, at myself, at the world for making such a beautiful creation. I don’t know what had happened but this was the first time such a thing had happened and it felt different. It felt a good different. The train moved on as I kept staring into the dark and smiling. That journey had been the best ten hours of my life so far. I felt alive, I felt grown up, I felt something which I could not explain.
Time passed by, bringing the memory of her laughter. I had just heard her some 4 hours ago but it already seemed an eternity, and the sunlight started peeping its way into our little compartment. The rays hit the adjacent lower berth and Shalini moaned and removed the blanket from her head. Her hair were still on her face and I don’t know how but there was a smile on her face.
I think she had been thinking the whole night as well. She looked at me staring at her and I did not look away. We looked into each other’s eyes and then she slowly pulled the blanket back over. Unfortunately, the sun rays also reached the middle and upper berth and within 10 minutes, everybody was up. Delhi was half an hour away. Shalini was still in kind of a slumber and had her head on her mother’s shoulder with her mother’s dupatta covering her. I sat stoutly on my seat, trying not to look too interested. I put on the sunglasses but remembered that they were not as dark as I thought they were. The train groaned its way into the Delhi railway station and that was the end of the journey. Both the families got off.
We had hotels in different parts of the city and with no mobile phones back then, coordinating sight seeing was going to be difficult. My parents said their good byes to the Sharma family and took their address to write them a letter some time. Both parties knew this was not going to happen but it was a courteous thing to do. Shalini was going away from me and there was nothing I could do about it. I felt so helpless and little. They called a coolie and the coolie lifted their belongings. We did not need one. Both the families went up the stairs and that is where it was to end. Both had to go in different directions. Our parents shook hands, our mothers embraced and I stood there staring at her. She was five feet away and that was probably the last time we were to see each other.
I wanted to go and say the last goodbye and I trusted my eyes to do the talking. I had the sunglasses on but I knew she could see right through them. Just then she moved forward, we were a foot apart. She put forth her hand. We shook and that was the end of it. The rest of the holiday was fun but was incomplete. My mother was really excited during the entire trip and she made us do all the tourist stuff. I actually quite enjoyed it but it wo
uld have been better had Shalini been there. We went to Qutub Minar, and even though I was scared of heights, I went all the way upto the eighth floor and I bought some binoculars to find her from there. We went to the red fort and I kept looking back as I thought that I had caught a glimpse of her in the crowd. We went to the Lotus Temple and I prayed to see her again. We went to India Gate and I imagined her eating ice cream with me.
The five days of holiday were finally over and we got back to the train station. We were to now resume our duties of a bread winner, a home maker, and a laborious student. But there was an excitement of meeting her at the railway station again. But such things never happen. We had an uneventful journey back home with no sitting with strangers near the open door at night. Real life was back. We were home
6 YEARS LATER 1998
T
he next few years of school life after the Delhi holiday were to be very important as I had to decide on a career. Or atleast that is what my parents and elders said. The years came and went without much happening as I used to be surrounded by books for most of the duration. I was a decent student and in class twelve had put in an extra effort and had made it to a grade A engineering college. My parent’s wishes were now completely fulfilled and I was allowed a bit more freedom in those days. My interaction with girls was however still limited to that one encounter with Shalini and the more I thought about it, the more I had an urge to go to her town looking for her. But I let the urges be. I tried to convince myself, and partially succeeded, that I meant nothing to her and that she would not even recognise me.
My college was in Delhi and I felt a little alone during the first few months I was in hostel. My mother cried when I boarded the train to Delhi and Dad just looked down. I know he had a tear in his eye but he was a man and could not show it. But I was still a boy. That was the second night in my life I could not sleep at night. I thought about the wonderful years I had as a kid with my parents. The way my father used to tell me a story to make me sleep every night when I was young, and my mother would play cricket with me when my father was away. How both of them had left all worldly pleasures to ensure that I get good education and the look on their face when the results came out and I had finally made it. And how unfair it was of me to leave them like this when they needed me more than I needed them. I knew that things would never be the way they were. All we had to show for the last 17 years- were memories. Very very pleasant memories.
I wiped my tears with my hand and convinced myself that I had played the part of a good son by studying hard and going where I was. But the thoughts just came pouring in and I finally reached Delhi. This was to be home for the next 4 years atleast, if not more. I got off the train and looked around at the milieu of people at the station. All having a place to go, all having work to do, and even in all that crowd, I felt alone. Alone in a new city which I now had to call home.
I hired a coolie and reached the prepaid auto taxi stand and started my first journey to my college. I made small talk with the auto driver and asked him about the city in general. How the people were, how strict were the rules and regulations, and other such questions which face you when you come to live in a big city from a small town. He was a nice guy, and told me about the city. It was good to the rich and bad to the poor. The rich had their air conditioned cards, their big houses, the money to buy pleasure. The poor had the scorching sky as a roof, the police running after them, and the rich ridiculing them. He continued about the misery of the poor, which I guess emanated from his own life. We stopped at a red light and right next to us stopped a scooter. The father was riding with the mother in pillion. A little boy, around five, was standing on the scooter, in front of his father. He looked at me and smiled. A smile not only from the lips, but from the eyes. I smiled back. My auto driver had forgotten to talk about the people in between the rich and the poor. The people like me, and the little boy on the scooter next to me. The middle class. Life was going to be alright. Delhi already felt like home.
The journey continued and I saw the college gates and felt proud of myself. The journey of life was going to begin.
The first few months of college were a time when the freshers kept a low profile. There was the usual ragging in the hostels, but nothing out of the ordinary. I met Hari the second day we were in college and that was a friendship that was to last for a lifetime. He was also from a small town, but from the eastern part of the country.
Girls seemed to be a new species to me and I was overly intrigued by them at first and then in completely awe of them. This was the first time that I was studying in a co ed system of education. My only meaningful interaction with the fairer sex had been in that train journey and I was a little uncomfortable around them. But as we got talking, exchanging notes, and at times, even going for movies with them, I began getting a little more comfortable. I learnt that girls were just like guys. They were insecure, they were alone, and they also wanted good and genuine company.
I had started shaving now and looked the part of a seventeen year old. I had an athletic frame, was decently tall at 5 feet some inches, had the skin color typical of an Indian, wore glasses, not the ones to keep out the sun but the ones which come when you watch too much television or study too much. I had the normal small town boy hair for the first few months which I later started to style in a different manner.
There was a girl name Roshini, who was from Delhi, and we both kind of developed some kind of a bond. It was the first time I had a ‘girl’friend and I started to enjoy her company more than the company of guys around me. She had a different perspective of things and I liked her point of view. She was not utterly beautiful, but was pretty in a non conventional way. And when you really start liking someone, looks cease to be important. And I think she started having a thing for me as well. But I used to be a pretty focussed guy at that time. Focussed to make a good career for myself, to earn money so that I could take care of my parents and make them live the life they had dreamt for me. It had taken me a lot of effort to reach the college of my choice and before I had come here my mother had told me, in no uncertain terms, about what affect a girl can have in your life. And I had not been in hostel long enough to disregard what she said. I guess Roshini’s mother would have said the same to her as I could see something in her eyes. She wanted to say something, but just could not. I think she would have seen the same in mine.
I guess, at that time, with her, that was enough.
We started hanging out quite a lot during those days. She was a nice girl. Different from other girls, but yet the same. Honest, but yet holding something back, serious, but yet fun.
The days of college kept passing by and were made beautiful by the very presence of Roshini. Slowly the things that my mother had told me before I had left for hostel stopped making sense. Slowly I thought that having a girl to love would only make me more secure, slowly, I started to have the urge to be more than just friends. We used to go on dates, me and Roshini. We never called them dates, but that is what they actually were. If you go out with one girl, for more than 5 times a week, it is a date. But we never called it that. And I think that even she had slowly forgotten what her mother had told her about young boys. Even she was reciprocating.
This went on for around 4 months and we were in December. It was the college fest period and a time where even ‘dedicated to studies’ or nerd type of people, like Roshini and I, could take it easy and relax. On one Sunday, when our college fest was on, I had asked Roshini for breakfast and she had agreed. I could not sleep the night before that, the third time in my life such a thing had happened. I knew that something had to be said, something had to be done, but my upbringing could not let me come out with it yet.
I was too scared.
If she said no, I would lose a friend, and if she said yes, I would lose my mother’s trust. It was a lose lose situation for me but I knew that it was not possible to continue the way things were. We had decided to go for breakfast to Connaught Place. I woke up from
whatever sleep I had managed and looked at my roommate Hari. He was still in a slumber and I smiled at the easy life he led. He had nothing to do with girls, or books, or with anything for that matter. How he made it to college was beyond me. His only love was cricket. Something he had given up in class ten to study for entrance exams but had pursued with a renewed vigor now that he was in college. As it was winter, the fog would not let him practice for atleast three more hours.
I got out of the bed and went into the balcony. The low lying clouds spread over the cricket field, and the sun just making its presence felt over the horizon gave the morning a surreal look. Some over enthusiastic seniors had taken to jogging and there were some students from other colleges who had come for the fest who were just sitting on the ground, enjoying the warmth of the early rays of the sun. Delhi mornings were beautiful and having breakfast with Roshini was the perfect way to start the day. I got ready quickly, the cold water in the hostel ensuring that my bathing time was limited. I wore a new pair of pants and a new shirt which my mother had sent with a relative who had happened to visit Delhi. It gave me quite the look. Then I removed the shirt and changed into an old one. And then I again changed into the new one. Hari in the meantime had got up and was looking at me and was laughing.
He spoke- “You love her don’t you?”
This was the first time someone had actually said it. So far it had been an unsaid thing between me and her, but this was the first time someone had put it down in words. I looked at Hari, smiled, or maybe blushed, and moved out of the room.
Roshini was to meet me at the campus gate. She used to live at home but due to the fest had put up with one of her hostel friends. We were to meet at 7:30 and I got there 10 minutes early. I was waiting at the gate, looking out for her in between the clouds when she appeared. Like a goddess. She was wearing a white salwaar kameez which was camouflaged by the white fog, her hair were open and were wet, first time I had seen them that way. She was around 25 metres from me and it appeared as if she was floating in the air, like an angel, like a goddess. She was looking too pretty. She approached me and for the first time, there was awkwardness between us. We did not know whether to shake hands, give a little hug, or just say a normal ‘hi ‘.
It Wasn't Love at First Shalini and I Page 4
