A ride to remember
BASED ON Un-TRUE EVENTS.
She boarded the train at Delhi cantonment, and took a seat right beside me, if every time I had a nickel when a girl sits beside me, I would still had that one nickel, so it was some sort of god’s conspiracy. May be he was secretly plotting something. “Excuse me” she said. I looked at her. She was glittering, a big round glasses were covering her bright and dense eyes which were looking at me with easiness, “Can I have the window seat please”, she said. “Sure” I said without giving it a second thought which I lament later. “Thank you “she said smiling, I smiled back.
“ Are you going to Jaipur “I asked to start some conversation. “Yes” she said, “and you?” she asked. I nodded “Cousin’s marriage”. “oh wow great” she said with sparkling eyes. “well I don’t know, I always get bored at marriage functions” I said. “because you never try to be the part of it” she said turning herself towards me. “What do you mean” I asked simply. “I mean you only love something when you be the part of it, like you said you get bored at weddings, you should try to be the part of it”. I had no idea what she was up to, “strange philosophy” I said and she laughed. “I’ll try to be the part of this wedding” I said, “well, good for you” she said with a big smile. “What do you do?” she asked after fifteen minutes of unbreakable silence, “Mechanical engineering, final year, what about you?”
“I am a writer” she said.
Not so often you hear these four words combined together, but when you do first thing you want from that person is to know his or her name and Google it, then if some curiosity left you ask them about their book, and finally if everything’s goes well, you ask them about their earnings. I passed through the same phrase. I asked her name secretly searched her name on Google and came to know that she was widely read and the main theme of her work was Romantic Fiction. I did not get terrified of her, in fact I was fascinated by her charm, at last I requested her to tell me some story written by her, she was not reluctant, as an artist she felt blissful, and took out a diary with a lot of colorful stick marks and started rummaging through it.
“She was born and lived twenty one year of her life in Nangloi. He was a, nonchalant, disgrace to his family, resident of Punjabi Bagh”
She started the story…
At eighteen she completed her high school and enrolled herself for BA Hons. in Miranda house college, her family was proud of her intelligence and manners, she was an epitome of love and respect. He failed his high school and started to do drugs, and other related activities that children of his age does not refrain to perform. One more thing that shape the background of their love story is that, His father was an MLA from west Delhi where as her’s was Lower divisional clerk at Ministry of Corporate Affairs.
So all this began on a chilly day of January the first when she left her house early in the morning to reach her college. In the name of New Year’s celebration He had drank all night at a club near kingsway camp. She deboarded the Bus at Azadpur and boarded another to reach University. He along with some other drunk goons pulled the Pajero on road not a single guy in it was fully aware of what they are doing and where they were. They crossed the road and smashed into a DTC bus, all of the sudden the driver and conductor popped out and scolded as well as abused them, normally there’s not much people aware about the existence of such abusive words, those words are self made sometimes, according to the given situation and time, many young aged children listen to them and started to propagate within their little friend circle, and that’s how they have a new word in their dictionary, every day you took them out on road. He came out of his car dribbling and guess what he has some more words in his dictionary too, but his accent was quiet elongated and low pitched. The driver and conductor knew that he must be the son of a top gun, so they left as early as they thought it would provide a safe future to their Wife and Daughter.
She was sitting in that same bus, and was watching the whole scene. She prayed from god never to encounter such guys in her life. Her prayer appear to be unfulfilled when next time she saw him at Connaught place where, she had come with her friends for no reason, that is what happens in Delhi most of the times, when you could not decide anything, that clearly states that you have to visit Connaught place, so they were sitting in this Mc Donald’s located near Revoli cinema when suddenly she saw him on the next table joined by some woo girls. She felt disgusted at first and secondly she felt jealousy, as no matter how much great others think you are, there is always good nail paint in the market that other person, sitting on the table beside , could own but you couldn’t. He suddenly looked at her staring and waved as if they knew each other. She felt embarrassed and looked away. “Do you know him” asked her friend. “No” she coldly replied.
She came to his mind more often than a strange thirst of Cigarette, he never thought about any girl for so long. Every day he repent over his waving act, and wished to go up to her and ask her name. For her, he was a manner less and douche bag guy, like you see in every other Bollywood movie where girl is sober and guy is Rajesh khanna who in his life never understood the meaning of Pin drop silence. Life is not a Movie because if it was then they would have met at right time, at right moment and like him, she would have also felt the effect of this attached string.
Next year, February the tenth she was engaged to guy who had sharp personality and had topped the civil services examination last year. He on the other hand tracked her down, and visited her locality two three time. So they first met in the bazaar, one week after her engagement. She was looking at the displayed wrist watch on a Titan shop, when suddenly he entered and asked the man to show him most expensive wrist watch for a women. Such conversation between customer and salesman could make people around incredulous. She couldn’t help and looked at him, the way every other random girl look at a random guy, the look that remain for very few seconds and gone as early as you started to feel something. She recognized him.
He looked at her and Smiled, waved and announced “Stalker is in the house ladies and gentlemen”. She felt embarrassed and turned to left the shop, he overtook her and blocked her way. “Rakshit Agnihotri” he said, putting his right hand forward. She didn’t shook his hand, he then said “Namaste ji” joining his hand. She ran outdoors, all afraid and in sweat.
Some people might call her the conventional type that she was not. In a society which is changing at a very high pace with both good and bad reside in it. So it was hard for her to differentiate between that good and bad. It was not just her problem, in fact it is the problem faced by every other person regardless of their gender, the problem of distrust. She reached home, and he drove down to her street which was broad enough to allow an Suv to pass through. He came out and lit a cigarette and sit leg crossed on the bonnet of his car. He took a drag of cigarette and leaned over the front mirror.
Before taking this story forward I would like to give it some more necessary backgrounds, one among the very first is the early childhood of our lady protagonist. Nita Bhardwaj the first born of her parents learned tenses at the age of six and started to write columns for her uncle weekly newspaper by the age of eleven, she handled everything so well but there was one thing that she failed to comprehend, it was an unusual liking for one of her classmate.
Poor Nita, told this to her mother. Like every typical mother, her mother also scolded her and told her to maintain distance from boys otherwise She would not be allowed for further studies. It was a very tender age for her and it is so easy for elders to shape their young ones just the way they want them to be. Nita suppressed her strange feeling and focused on her studies. She never had a guy as a friend. She took an oath to always maintain a distance from a man, until this day when she felt bewildered and perplexed about the whole scenario that took place at the market. She came home all hurried up and soaked in sweat, “what happened” her mother asked. She didn’t heard what mother had asked and entered her room and closed the door.
Local people eyes’ popped, they were skeptical. Soon they speculated a theory and someone said something, someone heard something and a rumor flooded the whole street that, the engaged girl next door got a boyfriend who have turned rebel when he heard that she’s engaged with someone else. Later that evening Nita’s father returned home after a long working day, and found a big car parked outside his house, and a guy peeing on the empty plot with a cigarette in his mouth. “Is this your car” he inquired, “hmmm” he hummed without looking at him. The father with all his working experience with government knew one thing that such attitude could only be affordable by a business man or by a mafia member, suddenly he saw a political party symbols on the upper windshield of his car, “so a mafia member” he said to himself and moved into his house, after twenty minutes Mr sharma one of the neighbor came over to Bhardwaj to confirm the rumor that was spreading like a cheese on a sizzling pizza. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND SHARMA ! ” Shouted Nita’s father.
Nita and her mother came into the veranda listening to the altercation. “Nita, what’s this nonsense, do you know the guy who is outside?” Asked her father. What guy? she asked herself, “Ohh” then she suddenly remembered. She was afraid as well as disgusted. why is he following me, who is he, what does he want, were the question that repeatedly swing in her mind. “No, Papa I do not know him,” she said and told all the incident swiftly to her parents. His father came outside and saw the Suv turning backwards. He on the other hand got an immediate call from his sister, who told him that his mother had an heart attack, so he turned his Suv in reverse and zoomed towards the hospital. When he reached there he saw his mother hand punctured with long needles. No matter how brute a guy is, seeing his mother in trouble his heart melted down and for the first time in his life he felt something heavy on his chest and the only thing that could lesser down the weight was cry.
The next morning his mother was discharged from the hospital. He learned the importance of his parents and promised himself never to take his parents for granted and to do something with his life. But love for alcohol isn’t a simple story, you drink when you feel happy, you drink when you feel desperate, you drink when you feel high, you drink when you feel low. Alcohol is bane and alcoholic is a major distress for this society.
Meanwhile She gets married and was prepared for all the duties that was generally assigned to a newly wedded women. Life of a women is not easy, though it may look simple but the truth is, IT IS NOT. One morning while preparing breakfast for her husband she saw a picture of familiar face in the newspaper that said “From Whiskey bar to Prime Minister’s Cabinet- Story of Rakshit Agnihotri”.
It was actually an interview, She readed it in her spare time and came to know that her old stalker is now the Minister of Youth affairs and Sports. She was neither amazed nor shocked as she knew that people change their profession but from inside they remain same forever. The next time they meet was not coincidental it was all planned, she knew that she will see him there but this time he had no idea. By now he may have forgotten her but somewhere in subconscious mind she was still there. It was at the Parliament house where all the officers working under Union were invited with their spouse and all the union ministers too. He was seated on the first row, she was accompanying her Husband on the third row. While the president was addressing all the ministers she was trying to locate him, while he was sitting there yawning and waiting for the dinner to begin. The Presidents came down from the rostrum and Dinners begin.
He stood up and looked backwards, she stood up and looked at him. For a moment they looked at each other and the moment passed.
“And that my friend brings you to the end of this story” She said closing her colorful diary.
“wait.. what.. why.. this story is incomplete what happened next” I being eagerly asked.
“Nothing happened.. They lived there respective life happily ever after” She said putting her diary back into her handbag.”
“This is absurd” I said.
She looked at me and tried to say something but stopped and looked away. Something was not right about this act, she was definitely trying to hide something. I tried to provoke her.
“Utterly absurd you shouldn’t have told me this story in the first place”. I said.
She remained silent and constantly looked outside the window.
“Don’t you wanna know the title of this story?” after about six and a half minute of silence she asked.
“Does it matter” I asked
“Depends on the listener” She said
“Well, then tell me” I said.
“ONE SIDED LOVE “she said.
The train reached Gandhi Nagar, she stood up and picked up her bag “this is me” she said and left. I sat there thinking, whose love in her story remain one sided.