I Too Had a Love Story

by Ravinder Singh

  I was happy I had brought Khushi’s mom and dad there. And I remember very well what her Mumma said. ‘When Khushi comes here, bring her to this place. She’ll love it.’ And her dad said, ‘It was a similar, spellbinding, scenic view which made me write a poem when I passed through the Khandala Hills on the Pune-Mumbai expressway. And I have the same urge now.’

  That was so good to hear. I don’t know if he wrote any poem on it or not. But they didn’t know, till then, that my small town, Burla, had such beauty in its lap. And, on that note, we were on our way back home, the setting sun colouring us with its hues and thanking the ‘guests’ for their visit to this natural heaven.

  We were back at around 8 p.m., a little before dinner. And this is when people actually started discussing the purpose for which Khushi’s parents were here. And, being a good lover-boy, I was updating my beloved about the proceedings at our premises. Moments later, when I joined the discussion, we all arrived at a common decision.

  The ring-ceremony was to be held in Faridabad, on 14 February 2007.

  Khushi and I had chosen this date long ago. She had said she wanted to celebrate this Valentine’s Day with her fiancé (the future me), whereas my stand was that I wanted to celebrate this day with my girlfriend (the current she). So we both agreed to exchange our rings on the evening of 14 February. For the first half of the day she would be my girlfriend and for the later half, I would be her fiancé. Such a simple solution, no?

  So, the ring-ceremony would be on 14 February. And the marriage, some time in November.

  After that, we had our dinner, and then her parents went to their room, quite happily. My parents and I had a brief discussion, planning some of the things at a personal level, especially for the engagement which was a month later.

  She is differently happy today. It seems she wants to tell me something. And I am asking—What? But she is taking her sweet time. I hear her turning the pages of newspaper. Then she speaks up.

  ‘Shona!’ And after a moment of silence she adds, ‘Your promise to me about that boozing thing …’

  ‘Hmm …’

  ‘I want to set you free from that promise.’

  ‘What?’ For a moment, I cannot figure out the context. But, still, I am happy. I again hear the sound of newspaper pages.

  She says, ‘You kept your promise for the past seven months. I’m sure alcohol won’t turn you bad.’

  I doubt that’s the only reason and ask her again, ‘Are you sure? Is this the only reason?’

  Mischievously, she reveals the whole truth. She reads out an article from the newspaper which describes the various positive aspects of limited alcohol intake. It also says that a couple can make their romantic moments special with a glass of champagne.

  I am smiling.

  She says, ‘I respect you for keeping your promise to me till the day I ask you to break it.’

  I don’t say anything, but I smile. I am feeling nice about this.

  She says ‘It’s been a long time for you. Do you feel like enjoying a drink with your friends tonight?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Haha … Well, not tonight.’ I am laughing. ‘I am glad that you are setting me free from this promise and I am happier that I could keep it. I only booze in order to give company to my friends. Maybe the next time they want me to, I will be able to drink with them. I am in no hurry, though.’

  She says she feels so comfortable with my last line.

  It was Friday afternoon and, as usual, I called her up before lunch. I had to tell her that we had made our reservations and also when we’d be arriving at her place. And I wanted to know what all was happening at their end. Actually, I already had an idea; still, all these things related to our engagement were so beautiful that we loved to talk about them again and again. It happens with everyone, no?

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Heyyy! Hi, my cute baby.’

  ‘Listen, I have completed my next task too. We have got our …’

  But she interrupted me to say, ‘Arey, wait. I’ll tell you about my task.’ She seemed very excited and, of course, completely ignored what I was saying. She was very happy. I mean she is usually happy, but that afternoon she was differently happy.

  I heard her jump off her bed onto the floor.

  ‘Give me a second,’ she said and started singing to herself. Lala … Lalala … Lala.

  ‘Weird,’ I thought and waited for her one second to complete.

  ‘Ok! Do you know what I have done?’ she asked in her cutest voice.

  ‘Hmm … No. Tell me.’

  ‘I have just painted some flower vases. And some candle pots, you know the kind? Bowl-shaped earthen pots which will be filled with water, and fresh rose petals and a few small, lighted candles will be floating on the surface.’

  ‘Wow! But what are you going to do with this?’

  ‘Arey buddhu! We will place them on the podium where we will be exchanging our rings that evening. To add an aesthetic touch and sweet fragrance to the surroundings.’

  ‘Oh … Wow! Nice yaar, this will be awesome.’

  Then she got busy again. Probably working again on those candle pots.

  ‘Achcha, listen. I have made the reservations,’ I tried again to tell her.

  ‘Wow! You know what? I have made an awesome design on it. It’s looking good … It’s looking so beautiful!’

  I don’t know what had happened to her. She was completely ignoring me and enjoying her preparation for her engagement evening. She was singing, she was laughing more than I ever heard her, she thought everything around her was so beautiful.

  La … Lala … Lala … Laa …

  ‘Heyyyyyyy you know what? The entire menu is selected. Yes! I’ve done that. And dad has given the order accordingly. Everything is purchased apart from small accessories. I will buy them tomorrow.’ And she kept narrating her entire list, what she was going to buy and wear on the engagement.

  ‘Arey, dekthe reh jaaoge. In that first look, I’ll take your breath away.’ she started jumping and singing again, this time at a higher pitch.

  ‘What’s happened to you?’ I heard her mother ask.

  ‘She’s gone mad,’ I heard Neeru say.

  And Khushi? She kept laughing and dancing.

  ‘Arey, Mumma, I am going crazy …. coz … coz … three days later,

  IT’S MY ENGAGEMENT!’

  La … Lala … Lala … Laa …

  And then, I think, she made her mother dance with her. She was crazy. The madness of being in love … Her dream coming true with every passing day … She was on cloud nine.

  All of a sudden, her mother took the phone to talk to me.

  ‘My daughter’s gone completely mad today … She’s been laughing all morning. She’s so happy, I’ve started worrying … kahin kuch …’

  ‘When you were getting married you must have felt the same!’ I heard Khushi shouting in the background, her voice fading away as if she was going out of the room.

  ‘Did you hear?’ her innocent and worried mother asked.

  ‘Haha. But Mumma, today I like your daughter even more. You don’t worry. Just let her enjoy the preparations.’

  From her mother I found out that, since morning, she had been trying on her dress for that evening every now and then, her sandals, her bangles. She had not even eaten breakfast in her excitement. All morning her hands were dipped in the paint she was applying to those vases and candle pots.

  ‘Do you want to talk to Ravin?’ her mother asked her.

  And from outside came her faint, childish, arrogant voice, ‘Mumma, tell him I am busy planning my engagement, so don’t disturb me.’

  She was so lost in the euphoria of her engagement that she probably forgot the person whom she was getting engaged to!

  I left my cute princess to her work. But before I hung up, I let her mother know about our reservations and the time when we’d be arriving at Faridabad. And I heard Khushi’s, ‘La … La … Laaaaa
…’

  I was wondering how she was handling all this. On one hand, I was struggling to get everything completed for the ceremony. My life was screwed up: booking tickets, calling and planning all my friends’ schedules, buying clothes and jewelry. And shopping for all the ‘miscellaneous’ things—which was the biggest headache of all. I was tired. I was frustrated. On the other hand, Khushi was handling all this so easily. Laughing, kidding, enjoying each and every second. Planning, shopping and trying everything on, one more time. I envied her for being so relaxed amid all this. And I loved her for this very reason.

  Done with my lunch, alone in the food-court of my office that afternoon, I was laughing recalling her euphoria. I felt happy for her and for myself for having her in my life.

  Khushi’s funda of life was so simple, yet fruitful—she wanted to live and enjoy every moment of her life. She kept saying, ‘Forget what others think when you wish to dance in the rain. Just do it. It’s your moment. It’s your happiness.’ She was correct when she said engagements, marriages, love (or, to be precise, first love)—all these are one-time occasions. Therefore, they are precious. You have to celebrate them. You have to make them memorable.

  Thinking of all this even I wanted to act crazy. ‘Yes! It’s my engagement,’ I said to myself in excitement. And with a last sip of water I returned to my office to complete the leftover tasks, before I went on leave.

  I filled in my leave form, for the next two weeks, on my computer. In the ‘reason’ section of the form, I wrote, ‘It’s my engagement! My cell won’t be reachable for any code fixes or test reports, but only for your good wishes.’

  Later that night, I was feeling this excitement creating waves in me. Soon I would be engaged. I would be called somebody’s fiancé. The freedom of being with my friends and staring at other girls may be gone. That one ring, which I would soon be wearing on my finger, would stop all incoming traffic of other girls. My bachelorhood was going to expire soon …

  Would I enjoy my life going forward, just the way I did till now? I didn’t know. But I wanted that ring on my finger. I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t know the future but, yes, I wanted to marry Khushi. I was dying to. All of a sudden, I wanted to have her with me. I wanted to stare at her, kiss her, love her. Ripples of romance were making troughs and crests in the ocean of my heart. I called her up.

  The moment she picked up the phone I said, ‘I think I want to make love to you.’

  ‘Hmm? Haha. You’re nuts. I am in my office and have high-priority defects to be assigned for closure,’ she answered with a naughty laugh.

  A few weeks back, she had moved to a US project and was working night-shifts. I knew that but I was so lost in my thoughts, I kept talking. ‘… And I want to close my eyes and feel your face with my fingers …’

  ‘Hey! Shona … Listen,’ she was still laughing, trying to halt my thought process.

  ‘… And then my fingers …’

  ‘Listen dear! Pleaseeeeeeeeeee. I understand your mood. But, I have some very urgent tasks,’ she said gently, so that I would not get hurt.

  ‘Screw work, screw defects,’ I said.

  ‘I love you dear. But this is my last day at office, before I take leave. Don’t you want me to complete all my work here so that I can enjoy my own engagement?’

  This is how she always made me think and brought me back to reality.

  ‘Hmmm …’I said, to let her know I understood but, still, was disappointed.

  ‘I promise, I will wake you up at around five in the morning, as soon as I reach home,’ she quickly said to comfort me.

  ‘Wake me up at five. Why?’

  ‘Mmm … Maybe I’ll want to feel your fingers on my face …’

  ‘Gotcha! Enjoy working.’

  ‘Enjoy your sleep before an erotic morning. See you at five.’

  She kissed me and returned to her ‘high-priority defects’. Half asleep, I reached for my cell underneath my pillow. From the faint light coming in through the curtains, I could make out it was morning. I checked the time on the screen of my phone. It was 6.30 a.m.

  I remembered Khushi was supposed to call me. Why didn’t she call? Did she fall asleep? Still in the mood to continue last night’s interrupted conversation, I dialed her number. I was still under my blanket on that chilly morning. For a long, romantic chat, I put on my hands-free and closed my eyes before I entered a world of romance with her.

  Her phone kept ringing but she didn’t pick it up.

  ‘I won’t let you sleep dear,’ I murmured to myself and redialed.

  To my surprise I heard a male voice. ‘Hello?’ The voice was breathing heavily.

  ‘Who is this?’ I asked, suddenly awake.

  ‘Girish.’

  I could make out he was rushing somewhere. There were noises around him.

  ‘Why do you have Khushi’s cell?’

  He didn’t answer but handed the cell to someone else.

  ‘Hello,’ said another male voice.

  ‘Pushkar?’

  ‘Yes, Ravin.’

  ‘What’s up, yaar? All you people? Where is Khushi?’ I asked anxiously, throwing off the blanket.

  ‘Ravin, we are rushing to the ICU. Khushi met with an accident.’

  The Unexpected

  ‘W-H-A-T-?’ Something struck my heart. I jumped off my bed. ‘ACCIDENT?’ I rechecked.

  ‘While coming back from office, her cab met with an accident …’

  My heartbeats increased. Pushkar then rushed off to see someone, probably a doctor and passed that call back to Girish.

  ‘Girish, tell me the truth. What has happened to her? Is she all right?’

  He was silent.

  ‘Speak up! Goddammit. She is fine na?’ I shouted at him. I could feel my feet shaking, losing their grip on ground. And I started rushing here and there in my room.

  ‘I don’t know, Ravin.’

  ‘What do you mean you don’t know?’

  He answered softly. ‘The cab got hit by some giant truck. The driver … the driver … he …’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He died on the spot.’

  ‘Oh God!’ That scared the hell out of me. ‘Girish. For heaven’s sake tell me about Khushi. Please Girish … Please.’

  ‘Khushi is in the ICU. The doctor’s haven’t confirmed anything. She has suffered a lot of blood loss ….’

  I started screaming.

  ‘Was there anyone else in the cab?’ I further asked.

  ‘Yes, one more guy, who was sitting next to the driver. But he is fine. He has gotten some minor scratches. The car was completely smashed from the right side, leading to the fatal injuries to the driver on the front and Khushi who was sitting just behind the driver.’ Girish replied.

  Moments later, Pushkar returned and comforted me, saying that the doctors were taking care of her and they felt they would be able to get the situation under control.

  ‘All of us are here, Ravin. Don’t panic. She will be all right. The doctors are positive. I have just talked to them.’

  ‘Yes, Pushkar. She will be fine. I am sure she will be. She has to be,’ I whispered, praying that my words would come true.

  ‘Listen, I will call you up soon to update you on her condition. Right now I have to go and check out her medicines and other things.’

  ‘Yeah … yeah … ya … You just go ahead with what’s required. I’ll … I’ll wait for your call.’

  Back in my room, I was still in shock, wondering if all that was real or just a nightmare and that when I woke up I would find Khushi was well.

  But, unfortunately, it was real.

  I felt suffocated. I was trying to breathe in as much air as possible. I opened all the windows, trying to make contact with the world outside my home. I was alone in my house. And that terrible shock was tearing at me in my loneliness. I called up my parents but disconnected the call before anyone took it, wondering how to give them this news. I wanted to get a grip on myself first. So ma
ny fears crowded my mind. I didn’t know what to do, so I rushed to the other room, to my worship-place. With my hands joined, I said to God, ‘No! Don’t make these bad thoughts come true. Please God. Not her. PLEASE.’

  Later that morning, I called my family to tell them. They did not believe what they heard first, but later helped me, saying she will be fine. I told them I was going to book the next available flight. For the rest of the day, I kept calling her family members. I was restless. I got my flight confirmed.

  Before the day ended, I wrote an SMS and forwarded it to all my friends who were about to attend my ring ceremony.

  Friends, there is bad news.

  Khushi has met with an accident

  and everything else stands postponed.

  The next morning, I got up from my bed at around 6.30 though I had been awake since 5, struggling to get rid of all bad thoughts.

  I went to my closet, opened it and, then, with my palms joined and eyes closed, I bowed my head in front of Guru Nanak’s picture which I kept on the first shelf. In my heart, I uttered, ‘Heal her wounds and make her well … Please! I know you can do that.’

  I stood there for a while. A little later, I opened my eyes, looked up and walked away, leaving the closet door open. On my way to the bathroom, I halted to see myself in the mirror beside my computer table. I looked scared and pale. A tear was still on my right eyelash. I wiped it off and, taking a deep breath and putting on a false smile, I said to the mirror, ‘Your sweetheart will be all right. She is such a sweet girl. God cannot be so cruel that He’ll harm her any more.’ Saying that to myself, I rushed to the bathroom as I was getting late for my flight.

  By 7.30 I was through with my bath. There was an hour left for me to get ready. Whatever I was doing, there were two names always on my lips: ‘Khushi’ and ‘God’.