Can Love Happen Twice?

by Ravinder Singh

  That night there wasn’t any further message from her. Neither did I write back.

  Thirteen

  When I woke up the next morning I realized that Simar had completed reading my book. There were a few long messages in my mobile phone that had arrived at dawn—near about 4 a.m.

  The first one read: ‘Jst completed readin ur life’s story Ravin. I’m still crying. Last few pages of the book hv been spoiled wid patches of my tears falling on thm. Ur love 4 Khushi is so sacred n priceless. Hw cud God b so cruel 2 tk away n angel like Khushi from you? Bt u knw wat, I m happy that with this tribute to Khushi, u brought her bck in this world n defeated God. Evry girl wud yearn for a soulmate like u.’

  I didn’t respond to any of her messages.

  Later in the day we met for lunch at the diner. She was sad and I could sense how deeply she was moved by my book. Her eyes had empathy for me. I tried to make her feel comfortable. By the time we grabbed our sandwiches and sat at the table, the two of us kept talking about Khushi. She had plenty of questions about her. To answer some of them I narrated some of the funny moments that Khushi and I shared which were not part of the book. She finally smiled and I felt a little lighter. By the time we had finished our lunch and were about to leave, she asked me the same question which millions of my readers have asked.

  ‘Can I get to see her picture?’

  I stood silently and kept looking into her eyes. Her compelling eyes had that conviction which didn’t allow me to let her down. For some reason I myself wanted to show her my Khushi, even before she had asked about her. It had never happened to me this way earlier. And I believed it would never happen to me this way later.

  Before the day ended I did show her what my Khushi looked like.

  As Simar moved her fingers over the photograph, her only words were: ‘Just the way you described her in your masterpiece.’

  As the days passed by, I realized that reading my book had brought Simar far closer to me than she had ever been. It had changed a lot of things between us. It worked as a catalyst that set into motion the process of bridging the pending yet vital gaps in our budding relationship. It had made things crystal clear in Simar’s mind. I could see that in her body language. I could read that in her thoughts.

  Late one night, when Simar and I were talking to each other over the phone, she expressed herself clearly. She was serious about whatever she was saying.

  ‘Having known you personally and then through your book, I wish I could have a guy like you in my life.’

  I kept quiet.

  ‘You are the sweetest heart,’ she said.

  ‘I want to hear that one more time,’ I responded, having gathered my courage.

  ‘You are my sweetest heart,’ she said, this time with more conviction.

  ‘I want to hear that one more time,’ I hesitantly repeated. For some reason her voice was hypnotizing me.

  ‘You are my sweetest heart, Ravin. I want to hug you.’

  I kept insisting she repeat those glorious words. She kept repeating them. And the two of us kept talking late into the night. Before we had said goodnight to each other, Simar had planned to exercise her wish, to hug me, the very next day.

  The next afternoon, I arrived at the bus stop close to my office. I had taken a half-day leave. A delighted Simar had been waiting for me. She looked refreshing in her light blue half-sleeved top. It had a witty message on the front which read ‘You are wrong’ in a light-coloured smaller font in the background, and ‘I am right’ in a larger, darker font in the foreground.

  ‘What is with this funny message on your top—You are wrong and I am right?’ I said and laughed

  ‘Hey!’ she slapped my hand as she caught me reading that on her front.

  ‘What? Can’t I read it?’ I asked, smiling.

  ‘Har likhi hui cheez padhni zaroori nahi hoti,’ she said and took away her gaze.

  ‘To phir likhi kyu hoti hai?’ I asked back.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  I laughed and teased her further. ‘Do you have a problem with me reading it or my staring at the wrong place?’

  As soon as I said this her mouth opened in an oval shape, letting out a ‘Haawww!’ as a sign of embarrassment. Then, as if to avoid me, she looked away in the direction from which the bus was to come.

  ‘Achha, I am sorry,’ I apologized. ‘But you are looking very beautiful in this top.’

  Hearing this she looked back at me and couldn’t help herself from smiling. I saw her twinkling eyes. She was calm yet pleasantly anxious.

  My home was just a ten-minute ride away and soon we were there. As we walked from the sunlit open space into the roofed entrance of my building a chill ran into my body. I had almost started getting the vibes of what was to follow in the next few hours. We walked up to the first floor. I unlocked the door and walked in. She followed me.

  As soon as I locked the door from inside, another chill ran down my spine. Not that I was scared but probably I wasn’t prepared. And not that Simar was prepared, but at least she was sure of what was on her mind. And honestly, I was dependent on her. I was game for her thoughts as I had nothing to share. I had surrendered myself. What was going to happen was going to be pleasant but I wasn’t sure if it was all good to let those pleasant things happen.

  Simar in turn looked around. I said a few words, all of them needless. I was tracing the ground beneath my feet even though it was not a battle. She kept watching me and it was as if she was allowing me to get comfortable in my own house. I appeared almost like a loser, being in my own house and unable to cope with a situation of being with a girl who had something lovely running in her mind. My past was flashing in my mind. I had been struggling with it for so long and I was struggling with it even more so in those moments.

  When the silence grew uncomfortable and I failed to find appropriate words to break it, I went to pull out a bottle of water from the fridge. The chilled air from the fridge froze me further.

  ‘You want juice or water?’ I shouted, pulling out a can of juice.

  She didn’t respond.

  ‘Simar. You want—?’

  I hadn’t even completed my sentence when I felt Simar behind me.

  She had perched her elbow on the door of the refrigerator and was watching me. She was smiling naughtily with her little fingertip stuck at the corner of her lips.

  ‘You want a …’ I tried to continue but she cut me in mid-sentence to say, ‘I want you!’

  The refrigerator door swivelled shut behind my back, interrupting my gazing at her.

  The curve of her smile grew.

  She didn’t say anything further, but simply stepped closer towards me with her arms wide open.

  In that very second I experienced a rush of adrenalin surging within me. It was as if gallons of blood were rushing up and down my nerves, choking them, and inflating my muscles inside. My hands grew cold, colder than the chilled juice cans in my hands. I put those cans on the shelf next to me, but couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was a split second away from witnessing something beautiful. It wasn’t going to be for the first time but it was going to be after so long a time.

  She came like a breeze and wrapped me in her arms. I felt her and I felt her feeling me. She held me tight and rested her face on my left shoulder. Her warmth pushed away the cold lurking within me. Her innocent hug cleared every lingering thought from my mind, leaving me absolutely calm.

  After a long time I was in a woman’s arms. That one moment was as if … as if life had suddenly been fuelled back into me, as if it had rained again after a decade of drought … It felt like the first sunrise after thousands of moonless dark nights, like the first bite of bread after a hundred days of hunger.

  I felt satisfied.

  Tears ran down my face as I rested my face on her shoulder. She sensed that but didn’t say anything; instead she gripped me tight and whispered in my ears, ‘You are a sweetheart. You deserve happiness.’

  I rested my hea
d for a while on her shoulder and I gripped her tightly.

  When I opened my eyes she moved her face back and looked right into my eyes. She wiped away the tears from my face. I smiled back and I hugged her again. I was happy. I don’t know for how long we were there in my kitchen, holding each other in our arms, leaning against the refrigerator. I guess not until my arid heart got drenched in the shower of pleasure and warmth.

  Sometimes you are not sure how happiness can again slip into your life. That was one such moment. Something within me accepted that whatever was happening was right—and for the first time I was sure of it. I felt relaxed.

  We slowly moved to the living room, feeling blissful. She was smiling and touching me without feeling shy. She was sure of how she wanted to live that moment and, by then, so was I. As I sat on the couch she ran her fingers on my nose pinching the softness of my face with the tips of her nails.

  Then all of a sudden she wanted to sit on my lap. I was only too eager to fulfil her wish. She kept looking at me.

  ‘Have you ever got butterfly kissed?’

  ‘Butterfly kissed!!’ I repeated those cute words. They sounded so lovely even as I spoke them aloud.

  ‘Hmm …?’ She kept laughing.

  ‘Naah …’

  ‘Let me show you then,’ she said as she took off her shoes and leaned over me.

  ‘Wait! No … Hey, give me a moment …’ I pleaded. I wanted to be calm enough to capture the moment to make it last longer.

  But she didn’t listen to me. She sealed my lips with her forefinger and pushed me back as she climbed on to me. I was still trying to speak when her body moved over my face and I reread the mantra written on her top.

  You are wrong. I am right.

  I simply smiled and politely surrendered myself to her.

  She rolled up and down over me to find the right posture after which she executed her butterfly kiss.

  She confidently blew a puff of air on to my eyes and brought her right eye close to my right eye. I was about to close my eyes when she whispered not to do so in my ear. Her hair smelled amazing. I felt her poised body on me. It was great to hold her. She then beautifully fluttered her eyelashes against mine. I followed her in doing the same. The tiny hairs of our eyelashes rubbed against each other, fluttering like butterflies in harmony.

  ‘You know what you are now experiencing?’ she asked passionately and politely.

  ‘A butterfly kiss!’ I answered.

  A little later, she slid down and connected her lips with mine. I firmly held her in my arms and turned her over so that I could be on top of her. She allowed me to. Then I gently took her lower lip within mine and watched her closing her eyes. I kissed her passionately.

  We remained on that couch for a long time.

  Almost two hours after having an incredible time, Simar and I were outside her institution. Simar was set to go on a weekend trip with her college friends. It was more of a formal college trip else she would have cancelled it. None of us wanted to part ways. And this fact was visible on her innocent face.

  ‘Can I fall sick and stay back?’ she asked me, cutely pouting her lips like a kid and as usual letting her head bend sideways.

  ‘No, dear,’ I said and rubbed her cheek with my hands. I didn’t want her to suddenly change her focus from her college to me.

  We were still standing there, talking, when Tanu gave her a call on her mobile phone. Simar turned to leave when I pulled out that juice can which I had picked up for her before leaving from my home. Back at my place we had been so busy that we didn’t have time for anything else. She was overjoyed when I gave the can to her. She felt I cared. I planted a kiss on her forehead and waved goodbye. She left for her trip. I left for my office.

  We kept exchanging warm SMSs over the phone till late at night. I was very tired, yet I forced my eyes open to read and reply. The anticipation of waiting to receive her next message was tickling me inside. And every time my cellphone vibrated it made my heart pleasantly skip a beat. A bit of anxiety, a bit of fresh romance and a bit of drowsiness had all effectively intoxicated me till sleep overtook my senses.

  I am at some place. I don’t know exactly where. It’s a strange place. It is all bright around me. A pin-drop silence persists; like the silence of the dawn before the sunrise. I feel very light as I walk on the path in front of me. I don’t know why I am here or where I need to go. Yet I am walking. Though I have never been here before, I can feel a strong connection with this place … That scent! I know that scent!

  All of a sudden I see someone in front of me. A girl! She is facing away from me. As I walk towards her the intensity of her perfume increases. I am a few steps away from her now. I hear someone’s heartbeat. I am standing behind her and about to see her but before I can see her, she utters, ‘Shona!’

  And then she turns around to face me and leaves me in a shock.

  It’s her. It’s Khushi.

  A cool breeze blows and everything around me glitters. I see her and she looks at me. All of a sudden I don’t sense the ground beneath me. I am floating in the air. I am glued to her and not a single muscle in me moves.

  She keeps staring at me for long and we talk through our eyes. She speaks. I listen.

  She then rubs her hand on my cheek and says, ‘I am happy for you!’ And she smiles.

  I still can’t move but a tear from the corner of my right eye rolls down, on to her hand. I want to speak but can’t.

  The light around both of us brightens up every second. It blurs my eyes. And all of sudden the intensity of the brightness blinds me in a flash.

  She vanishes.

  Fourteen

  Soon it was Simar’s birthday. I woke up early and, after getting dressed, I went to a florist. Unlike India, in the West we don’t find roadside florists which open that early in the morning. Like a crazy lover I roamed outside the Carrefour mall, waiting for it to open its doors. Thankfully for me, it opened sharp at 8 a.m. I was the only shopper in the thousand-yard store!

  ‘Bonjour, monsieur! (Hello, sir!)’ the lady at the billing counter wished me.

  ‘Bonjour!’ I wished her back. ‘Pour cinq euros? (For five euros?)’ I asked her in my broken French, showing the bouquet of red and white roses that I had picked.

  ‘Sûr oui (Sure, yes),’ she said.

  ‘Ah! Pack this, sil vous plait (please),’ I said to her in a hurry, writing a birthday note for Simar. ‘Merci! (Thank you!)’ I said and ran out as soon as I got the bouquet.

  I caught my bus from a different stop and followed an extended route to drop by her hostel. It was 8.30 when I reached her hostel. I called her on the cellphone.

  She picked up the phone and said ‘hello’.

  I didn’t say anything but began to whistle the Happy Birthday tune.

  On the other side I could hear her giggling and then laughing alternately.

  ‘Happy Birthday, sweetheart!’ I finally whispered into the phone

  ‘Thank you, Ravz!’ she said. She was still laughing. ‘It’s so sweet of you!’

  She had plenty of nicknames for me. From my already bonsai name of Ravin she managed to shorten it further to Ravz. But it did not stop there. She would often distort it further at her will—it mostly depended on her mood. The most common nicknames she came up with were Ravzu or Ravzi. And at times she would stretch it to Ravzzi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i’ when she wanted to sound extra cute so that I would complete her assignments for her. The shortest one was simply Ro. I didn’t like the last one. For some reason it made me feel like a pet. When I told her what I felt about it, she stopped using it.

  ‘Now will you come down or should I barge into the girls’ hostel?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, are you outside? Here?’ she asked excitedly.

  ‘Yes, baby!’ I said.

  Minutes later I saw her running out of her building. She was in her nightdress and her hair was not made; her face wasn’t as fresh as I had seen it earlier. But she looked cuter than she had looked before. It’s g
ood to see beauty in its purity, untouched.

  She was smiling. I knew she had not brushed yet but her teeth were shining white—a trait I’d most admired in her and also told her about.

  As she came closer to me, I pulled out the bouquet from my bag and presented her.

  ‘Happy Birthday once again!’

  I hugged her and kissed her cheek. She looked at the bouquet for a while and looked back at me, still smiling.

  ‘There is a note in it,’ I said.

  ‘Oh haan! Ravz, ismein to kuch likha hua hai!’ she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. She took her sweet time in reading the note, standing a foot away from me to read peacefully. She stood in her favourite posture—legs straight and held tilted over her left shoulder.

  I wrote a few lines about her to make her feel good.

  When she had finished reading, she rushed to me with open arms and hugged me tightly.

  ‘Thank you so much, Ravz. You remembered my birthday and you made it so special for me,’ she said smiling. We talked for a while and walked in the garden area of her hostel after which I left for my office.

  On my way to office I messaged her: ‘U shd now read what’s on the back of the note.’

  In the next minute she replied: ‘Oh! Ye to aur ek surprise nikla Ravz. Love u! I will be ready.’

  The back of the note read: We are going for dinner tonight. Be ready at 8. I know you don’t have any evening lectures today. Don’t ask me how I managed to know that.

  It was late in the evening and I had managed to get Anthony’s car.

  Although Anthony was part of my client’s team, he was more of a friend to me—though still not good enough a friend to let me borrow his Volkswagen for an evening.

  I had won his car for that evening in a bet.

  The previous evening Anthony and I had left the office a little early. We played a best-of-five series in pool. The bet was that if I lost I would gift him the best red wine in this country and if he lost, he would let me borrow his Volkswagen for one evening. I had cleverly laid out the terms before the beginning of the game.