“I think I made a mistake coming here all the way. You’ll never change. Always the pompous person- thinking only of yourself.”
I felt a pang of regret. At the back of my mind I’d always wanted her to love me, but when confronted with the situation, suspected I was simply backward in these things, unable to read the signs even as they screamed at me to take note. Why didn’t she simplify things by just saying, ‘I love you’? Or had I misunderstood again?
“You'll always remain dumb. Just a dumb, arrogant MSITian. An idiot. You fib when you say girls chase you! How can anybody fall for you except another idiot?”
She wasn’t fighting or arguing or even accusing me. It seemed I’d really misunderstood the purpose of her visit. Was my initial assessment right then, that she’d indeed come here to profess her love for me?
“Did I sound abusive?” I asked repentantly, my confusion refusing to subside. “But you didn’t spare me either,” I added sheepishly. Perhaps I’d overreacted to her teasing words and sounded ruder than I’d meant. “By the way, I don't fib, whatever else I do.”
“Obviously, you fib. You said girls chase you. Isn’t that fibbing?”
“Why?”
“Who could be stupid like me?” she said with a sigh. My heart skipped a beat. Did she mean by that what I wanted her to mean? “We all make mistakes and I too made mine. It’s too late for me to change now. I guess I made my choice long ago and there's no turning back now.”
I stared at her, unable to believe what I’d just heard. She had a way of moving fast, and paused to cast a long look at my crestfallen face.
“RK, how can you be an MSITian and yet be so dumb,” she repeated in exasperation. “You're one of the dumbest creatures I've known, so I don't know why I still love you.”
“Good,” I replied at last trying to muster some dignity into my voice.
“Is that how one responds when his girlfriend says 'I love you’?”
I’d heard her right. She was no longer playing a game of wits. She’d said it loud and clear this time! It was too good to be true.
“Well, there was no need to be so dramatic about it,” I said, trying to justify my actions. “You could have said it right away after arriving, instead of fighting with me.”
“I never fought- you did,” she corrected firmly. “Wasn’t it obvious to you when you saw me in the reception why I came? Isn’t it unusual to find me in your office? Do I turn up here every other day?”
“Well, my first reaction was no different- that you came here to profess your love, maybe also propose to me- but I was afraid to trust my instinct after your previous rejections. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. It’s like winning a lottery. Why did you tease me about chasing girls and the office being shabby?”
“Your office is shabby,” she repeated stubbornly. “Even if it weren’t, can’t I tease you?”
“Yes- but haven’t you already teased me enough, for many years? My heart is lacerated. You’re supposed to make amends today by saying all the nice things that I always said to you before. It’s my turn to listen, and I won’t call you an idiot like you did.”
She had absolutely no ego problem with my demand. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have called you an idiot," she said simply. "I love you, RK, I really do. I always think about you and can’t live without you. Let me add that I don't chase other boys or think about any other man, like you chase other girls or think about them.” I winced but she ignored me. “I'm chaste as they come- even in this modern age. I was waiting all these years for you to land a decent, respectable job, grow in your own eyes and build up your self respect and dignity before proposing. But you never proposed again. What happened?”
“I thought you were not interested.”
“Are you blind to miss all the signs? Why would I keep meeting you after I got a job or visit eating joints and other places with you whenever we met in Delhi, if I wasn’t interested?”
It had really been a blunder to miss all those signs, though I’d occasionally suspected if those were not signs of her tender feelings, of her love for me.
“I expected you to call me after curing Rags and propose a last time.” Her eyes were moist. “You can’t imagine how bad I felt each time I rejected your proposal. But it was the only way to steady each of us in our careers before taking the plunge. Why didn’t you propose again, RK? I kept waiting. Does it look good for a girl to travel all the way to propose to her beau?”
“Frankly, I didn’t have the courage to try again,” I explained lamely. “Whenever I called your house, mostly your father answered the phone. Whenever I visited Delhi on vacation you were traveling. We hardly met after I left Delhi.”
“You’ve a habit of missing important things,” she said with a patient smile on her lips. “Did you pay attention to what I just said?”
“What?”
“I said- does it look good for a girl to travel all the way to propose to her beau?” She looked up brightly. “I’m here to propose, Romeo, in case it’s still not clear.” She looked me deep in the eye, leaving me nonplussed. “RK, will you marry me?”
I must say she had style. She’d restored my dignity, put me back on track into regular job life and kept intact the fire of love within her. Despite lofty qualifications and a high paying job, she’d retained the freshness of an adolescent alongside her maturity.
“RK, you appear absentminded. What are you thinking about?” She peered into my eyes. “Say something! I just proposed. At least I said ‘no’ when you proposed. Now it’s your turn to say something- ‘yes’ or ‘no’!”
“Sorry, I was thinking about office,” I admitted sheepishly.
“What a time to think of office when someone proposes to you!” she chided. “Ragini rightly describes you as an absentminded professor. Can you put your office out of your thoughts, please- and respond with a clear ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”
“Sorry- yes, of course, I do want to marry you.”
“That sounds better.”
“It's what I've been living for all these years. You know it better than anyone else,” I said with a gush of emotion. “Who wants to think of office? Actually I was feeling jittery about my first trip abroad, that’s all. I’m in the midst of preparing for it these days.”
She cocked her brow.
“I've been asked to transition a project from USA to India and would leave within two weeks,” I explained. “I guess the trip’s weighing heavily on my mind. I don't want to go away so far from you just when I found you.”
“Think positive, RK. Career is important. I'll always be there for you.”
I stared at her tongue-tied. She was saying all the nice things and all the right things today. Why hadn't she said the same things a few years ago when I had first proposed? It might have transformed me into a different man altogether, full of energy, enthusiasm and confidence.
“I always knew deep in my heart that you loved me too,” I said happily. “You could have reciprocated my feelings long ago instead of making a dramatic dash to Bangalore. Can’t you take a simpler approach to life instead of teasing and harassing me all the time?”
“Teasing is a part of loving, dear,” she replied affectionately. “Now, stop looking worried. You’re not going to the US forever. I’ll not go anywhere. I’ll wait for you. Go and have a nice time. It’s a good place to visit.”
“Have you visited the US?” I asked somewhat surprised. “I thought you’d never been out of the country.”
“Oh, I went there a couple of months ago for a weeklong trip,” she shrugged. “Anyway, don’t be worried about your trip. They’re usually nice people there.”
“It’s just that I'm afraid of failure, Shalini,” I admitted. “I guess I've become a timid person and don't feel confident of going to the US or taking up any new venture.”
“RK, don't think negatively or you’ll feel more pessimistic,” she said in an understanding tone. “It happens to all of us- w
e feel drained of confidence at some point or other in life. But everything turns out alright in the end if we persist with the right actions.”
How could I tell her I was afraid of failure on my US trip as I didn’t want to lose my job due to bad performance and her as a consequence? How could I forget that it was my joblessness that kept her away from me for so long? I couldn’t risk it again.
“If I ever fail, or lose my job, will you leave me?” I asked bluntly, raising the question uppermost in my mind.
She laughed. “Yes, I will, because I’m crazy. I’ve recently escaped from a lunatic asylum, you see. Didn’t you realize that when you saw me waiting in the reception?”
“Be serious, Shalini.”
“I am. Think for yourself,” she said. “Did I leave you when I got a job with a grand salary packet while you were still unemployed and struggling? On the flip side, do you love me because of my job? Will you leave me if I fail?”
“Of course not! Your job is the last thing on my mind.”
“Then how can it be any different for me? How can I leave you if you fail?” She looked at me silently. “I avoided you for so long for your own good. Even if we love each other it’s important to learn to live away from each other too.” Her eyes softened understandingly. “Feeling better or do I need to take an oath that I won’t leave you?”
I smiled sheepishly.
She sat down on the sofa, pulling me down beside her, and gazed at me with a demanding look. “I didn't come all the way from Delhi to shed tears on your job or fear of failure on your US trip. Will you talk of better things or do you want me to go back?”
I took her hand apologetically and held her close. The receptionist looked up and smiled as our love story unfolded before her eyes.
“Don't ever talk of going away again. It scares me,” I said sincerely. “I almost gave up hope and was passing my days feeling lost. There should never be any misunderstanding between us. We should always try to discuss things before jumping to conclusions.”
“Sermon over?” she asked, leaning back. “I'm here on a short trip. Aren't there better things to talk? Maybe, go out somewhere and have coffee?”
“Sure, let me get my bag,” I said. “How long is your tour to Bangalore?”
“You're jumping to conclusions all the time, lover boy.”
“Why?”
“I'm not in Bangalore on work.” She replied, a thousand watt smile lighting up her face. “I'm here on a personal trip- to meet you. Just you. Make a note of it again- just to meet you.”
It was too much to digest in a day. I’d been thinking that she wasn’t one to waste time and money on sentiments, and here she was, out to prove me wrong again. I hardly knew how to respond.
“We have so much to talk about,” she continued, speeding ahead. “We need to plan where we want to honeymoon- here or abroad? What milestones to cover before the marriage, plan a good time for it.” She looked up brightly. “RK, let’s sit somewhere outside, in a park or a restaurant, and discuss everything while we’re together. Don’t lose your opportunity, now that you have me in front of you,” she added, slipping back into her bantering tone. “These opportunities come seldom- as you might have realized by now, Romeo. Before you know, I might vanish on a tour again, without knowing when I’d be back.”
I smiled. It all sounded too good to be true. I surreptitiously pinched myself. Honeymoon? But the marriage would have to come first. The damn processes. We spoke sweet nothings for a while more, before I left her sitting in the reception and sped upstairs to get my bag. Pads, my new MSITian boss looked up in surprise as I passed the open door of his office room on my way out with my bag slung across my shoulder. I’d never left office so early.
“I've to go to the airport to see off a friend,” I said as he cocked an eyebrow. “So I’d be on half day's leave today. Hope that’s okay.”
First I took her to a mall to do some shopping, where we exchanged gifts. She bought me an expensive shirt along with an aftershave lotion kit while I gifted her a fairly expensive coat and a skin care set. In the food court, we discussed our plans for matrimony over coffee and an assortment of snacks since she didn’t want a regular lunch, before I took her to the airport in the evening. Her visit was short and dashing, but purposeful- and very satisfying for me. It had given a new direction to my life. I’d always remember and cherish this day.
CHAPTER NINE
USA was a refreshing experience after the clutter, traffic mess, water logged roads and neighborhoods during rains and the perennial power outages back home. With gaping eyes I absorbed the sights. Clean and big, they had planned everything with space in mind. My own country looked cramped in comparison. In the US, the departmental stores were enormous and well lit, the highways broader, cleaner and better maintained, the huge car parking spaces often bigger than multiple football fields put together, residential areas designed systematically, without power outages, and taps gushed with water.
The town planning had obviously not been done overnight. Elected politicians or officials lower down the rung entrusted with tasks apparently didn’t shirk their responsibilities or pocket the funds meant for the nation’s development. At least, the governance in this land didn’t seem to have been entirely hijacked by shirkers, criminals and the mafia who extorted citizens, frightened and framed them wrongly with dire consequences if they protested and blatantly robbed the taxpayer’s money, comfortable in the knowledge that courts and judges were subservient to the government, under their draconian control and hence wouldn’t dare touch them. For a change, it was good to see a country whose political bosses were obviously not thieves and cheats with dictatorial tendencies who promoted the mafia in the guise of rogues and hooligans.
Most of the cleanliness and orderliness I saw in USA had been in existence for decades, so it might be easy for its own citizens to miss the streamlined orderliness since they were used to it. But to an outsider or casual visitor these things stood out. Tremendous foresight and vision these people must have had right from the onset! At least their basics were clear, of what citizens needed in their day-to-day lives and the government worked to provide such basic necessities like water, electricity and I heard even a maintenance allowance for those out of work. For a moment I didn’t blame my college mates for dashing to the US for higher studies and settling down there eventually. The place seemed worth it and for a moment I too felt tempted to relocate to this place.
Those entrusted with essential maintenance duties like clearing the snow off roads and parking places in the apartment complexes during winter, or those attending chance complaints of fallen electric poles in residential areas during storms and other such day-to-day activities essential for the smooth running of life, or rescuing lives and salvaging properties during emergencies precipitated by hurricanes and other calamities, did their duty instead of asking bribes from citizens to do the very things they were paid salaries to do.
I wondered though if they addressed the sufferings of the rich and the poor, or the whites and the colored, on an equal basis or the balance was loaded more in favor of the haves- the rich and the influential in society- while neglecting or attending to the others with lower priority.
However it was, I never heard of kids dying because of falling into manholes or pits dug by the Municipal Corporation or telecom companies or builders, as one got accustomed to reading in the newspapers back home or watching news bulletins on TV. In this country, human life seemed more valuable.
Along with the good things there were also some idiosyncrasies which appeared odd since I came from a different culture, but overall I found USA acceptable in terms of the basic standards of life and day-to-day ethics.
The buddy assigned to me at the parent US office took me out for a pizza during the first week of my stay. Very courteous folks. That was the first time I noticed the big waiting clock at a restaurant. I had to tell Shalini about it, though she might have already seen it during her
visit to this country. The big clock showed the current time as your order time and another clock next to it, ahead by twenty minutes, showed the delivery time. Fanciful thinking. Later I noticed the trend catching up in some restaurants in India as well. The copycats. If it was done, worn or spoken in the US, it must be alright. You had to do it too.
At the end of a delightful pizza, I sat back figuring if I should offer to pay first. Or would he pay? After all, he’d suggested the pizza. In India, the one who took you out to eat paid up traditionally, not the guest. I decided to wait a few more moments before offering to pay up for both of us, when with a sudden burp he fished out a few one dollar bills and placed them on the tray. "My part," he grunted.
I speedily counted the notes he’d placed on the tray. Exactly half the price of our pizza cost plus a little extra to cover a part of the tip. This brazen businesslike behavior was both new as well as surprising to me. I struggled with my wallet to disengage the other half of the payment and we left the restaurant as if nothing had happened.
Fool, I told myself. The miserly fool never suspected that I’d have paid the full price had he only held back a little more, and besides paying up, I’d have also given him the benefit of doubt for being a generous, thoughtful host who took me out instead of thinking of him as a hasty fool. It was one of those cultural things. His upbringing had made him smart enough to pay half the cost, but hadn't made him smarter to wait a little more and eat the whole hog free.
“But the American way is better,” PS told me over phone that evening when he called, after hearing about my pizza experience. He was living in the bay region off the West Coast, while I was touring the East Coast. We’d kept in touch over email through which I’d sent him my hotel phone number. “You don't have to fidget around wondering who'll pay. No obligations.”
“And no love lost,” I commented. “Anyway, any news of Pankaj?” I asked about a common batch mate we both knew.
Will She Be Mine Page 13
