Face-to-Face
It was 2.30 in the afternoon and I was on an airbus from Bhubaneswar to Delhi. First row, window
seat. I just love getting window seats.
With my official laptop on my lap, I wasn't working extra hours and making Infy proud of me.
Rather, I was going through her pictures which I'd managed to download at the very last minute
before leaving for the airport.
During the journey, I gave plenty of reasons to the air hostesses and my fellow passengers to think
that there was something wrong with me. Or, to be precise, with my brain. When you see a guy talking
to his laptop, at times looking outside at the clouds, smiling, then looking at the screen again and
smiling one more time—you cannot be blamed for feeling that his top floor might be vacant.
I remember the discomfort of the air hostess when she caught me smiling at my laptop while she
was delivering the safety demo. She probably hated me because the demo was supposed to be in sync
with the announcement by her colleague, and she was lagging behind. But who asked her to focus on
me? I didn't.
On my computer screen
Gazing at her picture
I found myself falling with the rising heights
Falling in Love with her
Couldn't resist saying—I love you
The madness added
When the picture said it too
If you ask me why I was blushing and smiling, I had plenty of answers for that. Enjoying the candies
(served by the same air hostess), I was recalling how Khushi gave me a call last night as the minute
hand just moved past 12 a.m. and we entered the first minute of a new day—today.
'You are going to come to me todayyyyy,' she shouted
'Oh Boy! I am going crazzzyyyyyyyy,' I also shouted, jumping in my balcony, stirring the calm
midnight.
I guess I woke up some of my neighbors, and disturbed some who were about to orgasm. A couple
of street dogs came out of the darkness and started barking at me. I rushed back into my room when I
saw the lights turn on in a few flats in the building next to mine.
Laughing at last night's events and still enjoying my candies, I recollected how confused I was that
morning about what to wear. I pulled out everything from my closet that morning and tried it all in
front of the mirror. I took almost an hour to decide and, then, changed again just before I left for the
office. The funny thing is that I ended up wearing the only shirt which wasn't ironed (along with dark
denim).
Everything I did that day, I made a mess of. And while I recalled those moments, every now and
then weird thoughts would pop into my head—
What if she isn't as beautiful as she appears in her pictures?
What if she laughs in a very weird way?
What if she limps?—and many other such thoughts played hide and seek in my mind, until I finally asked myself the
big question.
Do you love her, Ravin?
Holy shit! Of course it was too late to be asking this.
'Yes, I do. Of course I do,' I said to myself.
Well, to be honest, I actually forced myself to say it. I don't know why I was a little apprehensive.
But, good or bad, the truth was that marrying her was my independent decision, one that I had arrived
at without any kind of pressure from my family or from her.
So, to silence those weird thoughts, I pulled out a newspaper from the small rack in front of my
seat. But I could not concentrate on the newspaper either. There was a different kind of excitement in
me which was sending up a chill inside me, shaking me a bit at times. I don't know what kind of fear
it was.
The nervousness and anxiety meant I was going to the loo every twenty minutes. I became a peeing
machine. It happens to everyone … Or doesn't it? And I was sure that the kid on the last seat was
counting the number of times I passed by him. I pretended to ignore him when he started whispering
in his mom's ear. Of course he was telling her about me. I noticed his hand pointing at me, which his
mom pulled back, smiling.
Finally at 5 in the evening, the plane landed at Delhi and I switched on my mobile completely
ignoring the captain's command to not do so before instructed. While the plane was taking a U—turn
on the runway, I looked out of the window to see if there was any girl waving towards my plane—it
could be her! (Now, I wonder how I could have been so silly as to expect visitors on the runway.)
I was trying to call her up but, for some reason, my cellphone could not adapt itself to the roaming
zone. I kept trying, cursing my phone and the network. I kept trying and kept failing.
A few minutes later, I was standing at the baggage claim section, waiting for my luggage to arrive.
But my eyes were not on the conveyor belt. They were looking for something else, rather someone
else. Here and there, I was looking at every girl, and peering at the crowd standing outside which was
visible through the glass wall.
Then I saw my red bag gliding towards me on the belt. But before it could reach me, she reached
me.
On my phone.
My cell was working now and I heard the ring. 'Khushi calling,' it said. I took her call.
'Hey.'
'Hey.'
Silence.
'So.' And I turned back, facing the exit.
'So.'
'What so?'
'I mean, where are you?'
She had never seemed so shy and silent. I could almost hear her blushing. Obviously, her state of
mind was no different from mine. And how could it be? Two people, who were madly in love with
each other and had decided to marry each other, were going to see each other for the first time in theirlife!
'I am at the baggage claim section,' I said. And, with that, I noticed my bag going away from me.
'Damn! I missed it.'
'What did you miss?'
'My luggage. I started talking to you and I missed it.'
'Uh-oh.' She paused while I kept my eyes on the conveyor belt. Then she spoke again, 'Can I ask
you something?'
'What?'
'Are you nervous?'
'How do you know?'
'Because … even I am,' she confessed. Then she said, 'Ok! Tell me, what are you wearing today?'
'Olive-green shirt and dark-blue jeans. You?'
'Oh my God!'
'What happened?' I thought she didn't like the colour I was wearing.
'It looks good on me.'
'No, no. It's not about good or bad.'
'Then?'
'I am also wearing olive-green and blue jeans.'
Coincidences seemed always to be following us. Our birthplace, the month, the year, our interest in
music, our career, IMS. And now, the clothes we were wearing that day.
'Amazing! We are definitely made for each other. Hey! My luggage is coming to me again. I'm
going to pick it up and come outside in two minutes. See ya!'
I made my way through the broken queue to get my bag, and loading it on a trolley, I walked
towards the exit. The laptop was still hanging on my shoulder.
Finally about to see her, I was anxious, shivering and my heart was beating fast. Every feminine
voice from the crowd seemed to be hers. Of course, I was trying to behave as if I was relaxed and cool.
'Relax … Relax … Relax. Take a deep breath,' I told myself. And the next thing I know, I was
already outside.
There were a lot of people in front of me, waiting for their dear ones. Some cab drivers, holding up
nameplates for their bosses. There was a lot of shouting and noise from the traffic.
Then, for some reason, I stopped moving forward and turned left.
And there she was!
My angel, my beautiful one.
Her smile which tried to override my senses. That chilling hesitation in her, and in me. Her long,
untied hair that fell upon her eyes with a gust of wind. Her hand moving across her face, and moving
her hair behind her left ear. Her left ear, and the glittering silver earring she was wearing. Her
beautiful face, which mesmerized me. And in that green, off-shoulder top and jeans, her body
appeared so perfect, so young, so poised. She was charismatic. I wasn't able to take my eyes off her.
Rather, I wanted to stare at her from top to bottom, very slowly—which I actually did.
'This is her,' I told myself. 'She is mine.'
That was a wonderful moment which I have re-lived again and again, recalling that first sight.I moved towards her with a smile, almost forgetting my trolley. And in a few seconds, there I was,
right in front of her, a foot apart, still not able to take my gaze off her.
'Hey,' I said, offering my right hand for a shake.
'Hi,' she responded, politely and in such an elegant way, touching me for the first time with that
hand shake. (Did you hear what I said? The first time we touched … It was magical!)
And her eyes … So beautiful! There was something special in them. Something which didn't let me
look away. I wanted to hear what they were telling me. The feeling, the truth of the moment, the … the
… I don't know what it was.
I looked, and my eyes were stuck on you
I tried to move the black in them, but they were stuck like glue
Looking at you for real, I noticed your eyes
That's exactly where your entire beauty lies
So genuine, so honest, so beautiful, so deep
With a glint of light, some naughtiness did creep
Finding my dream coming true
I pleaded my shivering lips to bring out the words I had kept for you
There were so many things to say
I can remember none of them at all
But, I don't lose with that, I do things my own way …
'… And this is my sister Neeru and he is Girish—her best and only friend,' she broke my gaze and
thoughts to introduce me to two other people. I wondered how I didn't notice them standing beside us.
Was I so lost in her? Undoubtedly, I was.
I said hello to both of them, cracking some jokes to ease the sweet pressure which Khushi and I
were feeling. Then we moved out of the exit channel towards the parking lot in search of the cab these
guys had come to the airport in. Khushi was too shy to walk with me and she joined Neeru and Girish
in looking for the cab. I followed at a distance, with my trolley. My condition was no different from
her.
I wrote her a very short SMS, then, 'You are damn hot!'
The next moment I saw her coming towards me from the other side of the exit, looking at
something on her cellphone, probably reading my SMS.
When she reached me, she smiled.
'Thanks,' she said.
'I love this. Whatever is happening. The excitement, the anxiety. And seeing you,' I said.
And in her shyness, she turned away, her hair falling across her eyes again. Her complete attention
was upon me, yet she was trying to escape my gaze.
'Hey. Am I making sense? Or am I being stupid?' I asked.
She laughed and turned back to me. She had a lot of teeth. 'No you're making sense, actually. It's
the same with me,' she said, smiling.
Soon, Neeru and Girish appeared, pointing at the cab which was coming towards us. It became clear
that I was expected to step into the cab first, and because of this I panicked.
Where should I sit? I asked myself. In the back, with her? But will it look good if I sit between the
two sisters, pushing Girish to the front? Should I sit in front, then? Or should I sit in the back, but on
the left, with Girish in middle and Khushi at the right. And her sister with the driver? No. No. What amess! So many permutations and combinations to be solved in a second. It was beyond the abilities of
my brain. Better sit up front, I thought. It was the easiest solution.
And in haste and alarm I got in beside the driver. 'You fool. What is she going to think of you? Why
didn't you sit behind, beside her?' my not-so-talented brain shouted at me the very next second.
Damn! I was screwing up things with my stupidity. I was sitting apart from my own girlfriend.
Barely a minute later, I got a call on my cell. Mom calling.
'Shit! She asked me to call her the moment I landed in Delhi. I forgot,' I murmured as I took the
call. 'Haanji Mumma, I just came out of the airport,' I said before she asked me anything.
'I knew you will forget. Now tell me,' she said
'Tell me? What?' I asked, though I knew she probably had a hundred questions for me, about
Khushi, which I couldn't answer because I was with them in the cab.
But she didn't ask me all those questions. Just one, which summarized all of them, 'So, are you
happy?'
'Oh Mom! I am … I am very happy,' I replied quietly, looking outside the window.
'Good. I just wanted to know that. I know you won't want to talk to me at this moment. So you guys
enjoy and we will talk later. All right?'
'Haanji Mumma, theek hai. I will call you later. Bye.'
We were now on our way to the hotel, which I was to move into for slightly more than a day before I
left for the US. I had no idea where this hotel was, nor did the cab driver. Khushi and Girish said they
did but both were pointing in opposite directions. In other words no one had a clue. But we moved
ahead thinking we'd soon ask somebody about the precise location.
What an evening that was! I was sitting beside the driver and behind me was my sweetheart, with
Neeru in the middle and Girish on her right. The song selection on the radio seemed to be
exceptionally good that day—romantic songs that Khushi and I could relate to—and we sat listening
to them without saying anything, but smiling within.
These moments of silence only added to the beauty of the songs. I tried to see her in the rearview
mirror but, every time, I'd only find Girish's funny face and he would raise his eyebrows, mocking
me.
Soon, however, our formal demeanor gave way to a more casual one and we started talking about
each other, at times pulling each other's leg, recalling some stupid incidents out of the blue and
spicing them up as we narrated them. Khushi became an easy target for both Neeru and Girish and
they mimicked her embarrassment that day, before seeing me. We were shouting and partying in the
cab with the patties and the pastries they had brought.
'Yeh lo, ladki vaalon ki taraf se,' Girish said offering me the box of pastries.
We were in a jolly mood and, adding to the delight, it started drizzling outside. Shouting, laughing,
going crazy to those peppy numbers, we were having a gala time in the cab. On a few occasions,
secretly, she pinched me from behind, and I just loved that.
For more than an hour and a half, we hunted for my hotel on the streets of Delhi. And, more than
anybody (even me), Khushi was concerned about this. According to her, I was tired from my journey
and needed some rest, but I wondered why I didn't feel that way.
It was around 7.30 in the evening when we finally reached the Qutub Din hotel, in the vicinity of theQutub Minar, thanks to the chaiwalas and paanwalas. We all entered the hotel and, at the reception, I
checked out my booking.
'Room no. 301. That way, sir. The boy will bring your luggage in,' said a man with a huge
moustache, at the reception counter.
'All right,' I said and we all headed towards 301, everyone following me.
Neeru and Girish were talking to each other in whispers when Khushi said something to me, very
politely
'Can you walk a little slower? You've left me behind.'
And I realized why people say that girls are far more mature than guys. I was a fool, earlier, leaving
her on the backseat of the cab and taking the front one. And here, again, I was walking alone, leaving
her behind. I started panicking, not knowing how to handle such situations. I was a boyfriend for the
first time. A fresher in the school of romance.
'God! Please help me,' I muttered and decelerated.
She came closer to me and said, 'Now you're not alone. You have a girl in your life. So walk beside
her.'
Behind us, Neeru and Girish smiled naughtily.
'Won't they leave us alone for a while?' I thought. But how could they hear my thoughts? They kept
following us.
We were at 301. I opened the door to my room and we all went in.
The room was well lit. A small table, with a telephone and a flower vase, separating the two beds.
Nice bed-sheets. There was a telephone directory and a menu beside the TV set, across from the beds.
A giant mirror on the wall in front of us which reflected the entire room, including those two beds and
a cupboard near the entrance. Beside the mirror, there was a door to the washroom.
'Hmm … This is good,' I announced.
'Yeah', 'Yup', 'Hmm …' the people surrounding me murmured. Then, Girish started his survey of
the room, analysing everything and telling me the good and the bad.
'Thanks Girish,' I said, when he had finished. 'Anytime,' he acknowledged.
After which I wanted to ask him just one more question—'So when are you going to leave us alone,
for heaven's sake!?' Instead, I just kept mum, hoping my eyes would do the talking. And Neeru finally
understood that they should better leave us alone for a while. She whispered to Girish and I don't
know what was making the three of them look at each other and smile. I hoped they were not joking
about me.
'We are going to a nearby place to have something. If you guys want, we can get something for
you,' Girish said, moving towards the door with Neeru.
'No. I'm stuffed,' I said. 'Wow! At last,' I thought.
'Girish, if we need something, I will call you up. And take care of Neeru. Don't leave her alone, all
right?' Khushi said, opening the Bisleri bottle placed on the table.
'Yes, I will. You don't worry. By the way, it's 8.30 now. We should leave Delhi by 9 so that we can
reach Faridabad by about 10.15.
We're already late, you know na?'
'Yeah. But don't worry, we will manage,' said Khushi.
'All right. See ya.'And finally they left the room and I took a deep breath to relax.
I went and locked the door while Khushi took a last sip of water from the bottle. She noticed me doing
that and smiled, then she kept the bottle on the table and my laptop bag on the chair. I stepped between
the two beds and sat on the left one. She came in and sat on the right one, just in front of me. We were
together, just the two of us. Our smiles described our mood.
That moment seemed to be a beautiful dream. We wanted to feel and live that moment forever. The
person with whom I was going to spend the rest of my life was right in front of me. I could look into
her beautiful eyes, I could touch her, feel her. The delight of that moment had both of us spellbound.
Words were unnecessary. I stared at her for a long time. And when she could not handle my gaze, she
looked at the ground, her neck tilting down and strands of her beautiful hair falling in front of her
shoulder, covering her right cheek and ear.
And the silence in the room persisted, and there we were, madly in love. Still not believing that,
finally, we had seen each other. Still nervous, still wondering what to say.
Gathering her courage, she looked up, into my eyes (which were still focused on her) and moving
her hair behind her ear again, she asked, 'Safar mein koi takleef to nahi hui?'
Coming as it did, after more than five minutes of silence, that question sounded hilarious. It
reminded us both of the old Bollywood movies in which the heroine would ask her beloved, 'Suniye ji,
aapke safar mein …' and all that. Before she could see my reaction, she understood what a stupid and
stereotypical question it was, and we looked at each other and laughed and laughed, falling upon our
respective beds. But that question also became an ice breaker and we both relaxed.
'Ha ha ha ha! Yeah, I mean, nahi koi takleef nahi hui,' I said, getting up.
'I am so stupid,' she said, slapping her forehead.
'Nah, you're not. You are … beautiful,' I said calmly, looking into her eyes.
And I don't know what gave me the courage to raise my right hand towards her, to reach her face.
My fingers first touched her cheek, the middle finger first, then the first finger and then all of them,
helping her hair behind her ear. That human touch was incredible. Feeling my fingers on her face, she
closed her eyes and I felt her breathing heavily now. I watched her. Her good-looking face, the lines
on her forehead, appearing and vanishing. Her curved eyelashes. Her cute nose. Her soft lips, which I
very gently rubbed my thumb on, and she started shaking, her eyes still closed and her hands gripping
the bed-sheet very tight. My eyes were the silent observers to this moment we both were in. My mind
was hypnotized and fingers were still trying to understand the beautiful face before me. Occasionally,
I felt her warm breath breaking on my cold fingers.
My consciousness asked me whether what was happening was real and then it answered itself—I
was not dreaming. She was real. She was with me. Deep inside, I felt so satisfied, so blessed that the
moment when my angel was in front of me had finally arrived.
We were lost. Lost in each other.
'Shonimoni,' I whispered in her ears, silently, getting close to her, very close. She was still
breathing heavily and couldn't say anything. 'This is a wonderful moment. I can't believe this. You
are with me …'
I moved almost to her bed.
'Shona!' she said and grabbed my hand.In a while, very slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at me and smiled. She was so happy, so
delighted to have me so close to her. And she kept looking at me in that way, for some time.
Raising her eyebrows slightly and still smiling, she asked me, 'Tell me, how you are feeling at this
instant, with me?'
I put my arms around her and biting her ear, I said, 'Don't ask me. I won't be able to describe it. I
just want to say one thing …' Then, I whispered in her ear, 'I am madly in love with you.' With that, I
rested my chin on her shoulder.
'I love you too,' she said and moved her fingers all the way from my forearms, to the wrist, then the
palm and finally into the spaces between my fingers. At that moment, I felt so complete. I realized
how, just like me, she too wanted to live that moment as if it should never end.
I held her in my arms for some time. From the romantic movies I had seen till then, I knew that
holding your beloved in your arms that way is such a different feeling. But that it would be so
magical, I never knew. To understand and believe certain things, you have to experience them. And
love is one such thing. Hmmm … Actually, it's not a thing—it's a lot more than that. We were
speechless again, just feeling each other. But who needed to talk? Silence was talking at its best. But
threatening the silence, another thought crept into my heart, all of a sudden … Should I kiss her? And,
with that, the battle between my heart and mind started. Heart: Yes. Mind: No. Heart: Why not? This
is such a perfect moment. I think I should. Mind: What if she doesn't feel good about it? After all, this
is just your first date. Heart: But will I get a moment like this again? Tomorrow, her entire family will
be around us. No time, then. And the next day I have to take my flight. I should take a chance right
now … Mind: Chance? First, look into the mirror and ask yourself if you can do this in the first day
itself? Heart: Stop that nonsense. I am going ahead. Mind: Good luck. Heart: Thanks … Mind: Hey
wait a sec. Heart: Now what?
Mind: Are you comfortable? May be you want to use the loo first … It helps, you know.
Heart: Shut up! Now, this happens to me most of the time. Sometimes, I think, I am not too strong,
mentally. And that's why my heart always wins. But, to be very honest, I just love that.
I oxygenated my lungs with a deep breath and turned her almost 180 degrees. We now were facing
each other. My arms were still around her, her hands were on my shoulders. I looked into her eyes.
I grabbed her
Looked straight into her eyes
I told her, I do things
And I do them in my own way.
I was prepared to feel something for the very first time in my life and—I won't lie—my heartbeats, at
that moment, were faster than Schumacher in his Ferrari. I looked into her eyes and drew close.
I grabbed her
Looked straight into her eyes
With a wink, I drew her close
My lips moved, but this time not to say
I told her, I do things
And I do them in my own way.
Yes, it was going to be my first ever kiss …
But!But … How I hate to the word B-U-T.
But fate had to intervene and Girish, playing devil, called her up on her cell. The ringtone shattered
my utopia and, before I could reach her lips, she wanted to answer the call. And before she could
answer the call, she looked at the clock. 'Oh my God! It's 9! N-I-N-E!' she said, (no, she screamed)
and stretched to reach her cellphone.
'It's Girish,' she said, pressing the answer button.
While she was talking to Girish, I collapsed on the bed in total dismay, wondering at Girish's sense
of timing. How could he be so perfect? I was fuming inside.
All the while, she continued with that call:
'Haan bolo.'
'Yeah, I know we have to leave.' She turned her back to me and walked towards the door which was
locked from inside.
'No, we don't want anything to eat.' She looked back at me and gestured with her other hand to ask
me if I was hungry.
'Yes Girish, just five more minutes yaar.' She clenched and unclenched her fist.
'Arey, I know baba. I said na, we will manage,' and she looked at herself in the mirror.
'Now will you please hang up? Pleaseeeee?' She turned her back towards the mirror.
'Yeah, we will be there in five minutes. All right? Bye now.' And she came to me, disconnecting
the call. She was panicking, all of a sudden.
'Shona! I have to leave. I am getting late. Mom must be about to call.'
'Hmm … All right. Don't worry, you'll be on time. Where are Neeru and Girish?' I tried to comfort
her and, more importantly, to extinguish the fire that had just now been burning in me.
'At the reception,' she answered.
'Ok. And I guess you guys will be going by the same cab,' I asked, getting up from the bed and
taking a sip of water from the half-filled bottle.
'Yes, the same cab,' she said, getting up and moving towards the mirror again.
Then her cellphone rang again and, again, it was Girish. I picked up the call this time.
'Hey, I guess you should hurry up. It has started raining again,' he said.
Though I hated him at that moment, I still said, 'Yes, just a second. We are coming down. See you
there.'
We were about to leave that room, when she screamed one more time. 'Shit! I forgot this,' she said,
looking at the big plastic bags which Neeru had left at the entrance to the room.
She quickly picked them up and said, 'Shona, this is for you.'
'What is this?'
'Open it.'
I did what she asked. A blue-striped shirt with a Park Avenue tag and two ties: one, black with white
stripes in the middle; the other, steel-coloured. I was so pleased. A girl bought something for me …
My Khushi bought something for me. And I suddenly recalled a couple of managers from my office
whom I used to see, at times, in shops along with their wives, who were selecting shirts for them. I felt
good, realizing all those things were happening to me now. New things, different things, beautiful
things.'For me?' I asked her. 'No. For that fat cab driver,' she tried to tease me. 'Really? You had an affair
with him too?' I teased her back. 'Shut up,' she responded with a smile but her eyes wanted me to fear
her. Then she reminded me, 'I have to rush now. It has started raining.'
'Oh yes. Let's go,' I said, dropping the box on the bed behind me and stepping out of the room. This
time I made sure to walk beside her, and she acknowledged that with her mischievous smile.
We were about to reach the reception when I couldn't control myself any more and asked her, 'Why
are you leaving Khushi? Don't go … Please.' And my speech paused there, along with my feet.
She stopped there as well and held my hand in hers and said, 'Just a couple of months and I won't
have to leave you this way. I will be all yours.' There was so much love in those words as if, from now
on, she was going to take care of me forever.
'I know,' I said.
'Now shall we go before Girish gives another call?'
'Yes.'
Back at the reception, we met Neeru and Girish again. They were trying to tease Khushi with their
faces and expressions but she was, somehow, managing everything with her simple smiles, digressing
from what they wanted to hear. We all stood there for a few minutes before they went to their cab
which was parked outside the hotel.
It was drizzling. They got seated and the cab reversed. They were leaving and my eyes were
following the left window from which she was waving to me. I almost ran into the middle of the road
to catch a last glimpse of her for the day. Then the cab took a right turn at the end of the street and she
disappeared.
But Oh! I loved the light rain shower and looked up at the sky, thanking the heavenly firmament.
That day did not end there, though.
A few minutes later, I was in my room, busy performing my victory dance and singing the lines
'pehla nasha, pehla khumaar.' Just like in the movie, I placed my left foot on the bed and jumped
back on the ground to my right, in slow motion. The only difference being, my landing was not
successful and I broke the glass of water placed beside the TV.
Shattered glass on the floor. And silence …
Standing alone, in front of the mirror I scolded my reflection, 'See what you have done?'
The very next moment, my reflection smiled and murmured, 'naya pyaar hai, naya imtihaan.'
I was out of control, wondering how I could tell the world that I was the happiest man on the planet
at that moment. The feelings within me were straining to come out. And I don't know whether I was
failing to handle them, or celebrating them in the best possible way.
Finally, I grabbed my cell again to give her a call and tell her, 'You are damn beautiful. You are so
perfect … I am so lucky …' I went on and on, and she heard all that with a smile.
She was still in that cab and I could hear giggling voices around her. All she said was, 'And vice
versa. I have so much to say, but just can't. You know na.'
We talked for a very short while and then I ordered my dinner which arrived in another ten minutes.
By 10.30, I had eaten and the bellboy came to my room to collect the dinner plates and bowls.
'How was the food, sir?' he asked.
Did I really notice the taste? Forget the taste, did I even know what dishes I had eaten? All I couldthink of was her face, the way it appeared when I pulled her in my arms, her eyes and her fragrance
which still persisted in my breath.
But I answered, 'Oh yes, it was good.'
He gathered the plates and left my room.
By 11.30, I still couldn't sleep, though I was tired. I was hung over on something so different, for
the first time. I was celebrating the spirit of being in love. Everything around me appeared beautiful
because the only thing running through my mind was beautiful.
She too was going through something similar, I learnt when she called me at last. And we talked for
a long time, candidly: confessing our fears; describing the thoughts flowing in our mind when we saw
each other at the airport, when I sat on the front seat, leaving her behind, when I locked the door of my
room from inside once Neeru and Girish had left, when I pulled her in my arms; our happiness, the
euphoria in which we still were. I don't remember when, exactly, we slept …
The next morning, I was waiting for Girish. Khushi had called me up to tell me that Girish would be
coming to Delhi for some work and would pick me up on his way back to Faridabad. There, for the
first time, I'd meet Khushi's family—except for her dad who was in Punjab, taking part in some
religious event at a gurudwara there.
While I waited for him, I spent my time doing some peculiar things. Standing in front of the mirror,
I practiced lines which I might have to say in front of her family in different situations. I wanted my
facial expressions and body language to make a good impression on her family. So, I rehearsed some
common lines:
'No, no, my parents won't have any issues if she carries on with her career after marriage. In fact, I
am marrying her because she is a career-oriented girl.' (With a brilliant use of the hands.)
'I'm not sure if we'll move north so soon but, yes, the plans are there.' (With confidence.)
'Oh yes, I can cook. In my work-related trips abroad I learnt that, you know. It might not be as
delicious as what she can prepare, but it serves its purpose.' (With a smile.)
And so on.
It was 10 a.m. To kill some more time, I moved out to the lounge. I was nervous again as I left my
room. The nervousness of facing so many new people at once. In the lounge, I glanced through the
newspaper and had a cup of tea, which was my only breakfast. I wasn't feeling hungry at all, but
excited and thrilled.
A few minutes later, my cellphone beeped. It was an SMS from her.
Girish wl b dere by 10.15.
B ready and Gud Luk. A few
hrs from now u'll b among
ur would be in laws. :-)
As soon as I read her message, a new number flashed on my cell's screen. This time, it was Girish
calling me outside. I quickly finished my tea, put the newspaper back in the rack and left the hotel.
Soon, I was in his Qualis. Obviously, his dad was a big man. On our way to Faridabad, he kept
telling me about his dad, who had been an MLA some years back. He kept talking about his
investments in real estate and in shares. And I kept replying with 'ok,' 'yeah' and 'oh really'—not
really listening to his big talk. All that was going through my mind at that point was how things wouldpan out in the next couple of hours. I had never been to any in-laws till then! With the rest of our
relatives, it was always the boy's family who went to the girl's. But here, things were so different. I
was all alone. So many thoughts going through my mind …
I am all alone. Damn! I don't even believe I am doing this, going to visit my in-laws.
Do I need to tell her mother one more time that I love Khushi?
Thank God her dad is not home.
I should sound mature. A responsible citizen. Shit! Not citizen. A responsible person who will keep their Khushi very happy for
the rest of her life.
What will her home be like? Bigger than mine?
Is anybody going to ask me my salary? Should I add a few more thousands to the figure?
They have a big car too and I have just a bike—not even a Pulsar, at that.
Damn! What all I am thinking? Shit!
'What happened?' asked Girish. 'No, no, nothing,' I said, wondering if he heard my thoughts. 'Hey!
Hey! Aisa hi hota hai,' he mocked my condition. 'What do you mean, aisa hi hota hai?' I asked to
hide my restlessness. 'Kuch nahin,' he said with a smile and put on some music. After almost an hour,
we reached our destination. On the way, I bought a pineapple cake for them from a confectionary in
Faridabad, which Girish said was one of the best in their city. 'Here we are. Lo aa gaya aapka
sasuraal,' said Girish. 'Boy! This is it,' I said to myself.
I took a deep breath and got down from the vehicle and looked at the white-coloured house in front
of me. Then I opened the black gate and walked in. There were a few plants, with flowers blossoming
in them. A tiled veranda, half of which was covered with a shed. I knocked on the door in front of me,
while Girish came after locking his car.
Somebody opened the door and I was excited to see who it was going to be.
Her mom. In a very simple and decent suit. No makeup at all, simply a kada in her right hand. She
appeared as simple as my mom. She smiled when she opened the door to welcome me in.
'Sat Sri Akal,' I said and bent down to touch her feet.
'Sat Sri Akal beta ji,' she said kissing my forehead.
Her mom was delighted to see me. Finally, I was in front of her eyes. She was seeing, for the first
time, the person who was going to take her beloved daughter away from her. And in those eyes were
so many expectations, so many concerns and so much hope for her daughter.
She welcomed me into the drawing room. Girish followed me, touching her feet.
'Baitho beta,' she said to both of us.
While we made ourselves comfortable, she asked me if I was well and if my journey had been
comfortable. Then she went out of the room, saying 'Main bas abhi aayi.' Probably, she went to the
kitchen.
Back in the drawing room, I was adapting to my would-be sasuraal. I liked the ambience of the
room: the sofa and the chairs surrounding the center-table at one end of the room; the TV set at the
opposite end, in a movable cabinet that had a lot of other stuff on its shelves decorative pieces,
including small, flowery miniatures on the upper left, a toy-train on the right (possibly Daan's); the
money-plant in one corner, between the sofas and chairs; a couple of beautiful paintings on the wall
with the signatures of their makers at the bottom-right. The one in front of me was big, almost a meterlong, and depicted the baaraat of a Prince, who was on his horse, with his bride being carried in a doli
and a few people playing the shehnai.
'How are you feeling?' Girish whispered from the other end of the sofa, having his share of fun in
all that was happening.
'I am doing fine,' I whispered back.
'Good,' he smiled.
A little later, somebody came into the room. A beautiful girl in alight green top and black denim,
with a tray in her hand, carrying soft-drinks in beautifully carved glasses. It was Neeru. The day
before, I had not noticed how beautiful she was. But how could I, when her still more beautiful sister
was in front of me. Anyway, I was happy with one more thought, 'Beautiful Saali too.'
So, this is how it started. With cold drinks and a whole lot of snacks, dry fruits and sweets. Neeru
and her mom joining us with their chitchat. Questions from her mom: How was my family doing back
in Orissa? For how long was I going abroad? And many more … At times, she talked about their
family, which means that I got to know once more, the things I already knew.
Deepu was in Assam, working with an MNC. Pushkar and Amrit (a.k.a. Ami di) would be here in
half an hour or so.
Already, there were so many similarities between Khushi and me. And, now, I saw so many
similarities between our families too. Both were religious-minded and believed in simple living. Her
mother, in each and every aspect, appeared just like my mother.
As we talked, I occasionally kept raising my eyebrows looking at Neeru, silently asking her about
her elder sister's whereabouts.
'Have patience. She is getting ready. Sirf aapke liye hi,' she replied and laughed at me. Then she
brought me a plate, 'Take one samosa.'
'Haanji beta, lo na,' her mom insisted.
And this continued
'Oh! Have some cashews.'
'Thanks.'
'Try this aaloo bhujia.'
'No, please. I'm stuffed.'
'No, no … Take some. All right, try this dhokla then. You will love it.'
'A … a … all right. But this is the last one.'
'Arey, aap to kuch le hi nahi rahe ho … Yehlona.'
'Nahin, please. Thanks. Bas, bas, bas! This is too much …'
With so much, I feared constipation and, if not that, definitely loose motions.
Almost twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of the girl I had come there for. Back in
that room, the four of us were talking to each other. At times, Neeru and Girish were smiling at each
other.
Then all of a sudden, a voice traveled from inside, 'Neeeeeruuuuuu!'
'Lo, ho gai taiyaar maharani,' Neeru said, getting up from her chair and going to Khushi.
Moments later, I heard two different footsteps approaching us.
There she was. My angel in a ravishing suit: pink kameez, sky blue pyjaami and a blended chunni
with many shiny stones making uneven lines on it. Her hair, long and silky. Glossy lips and thoseglittering ear rings.
She looked at me and said, 'Hi!'
'Hi!' I responded with a smile, amazed at how beautiful she looked.
There was a different kind of hesitation between us now, to talk to each other in front of everybody.
Still, we went ahead.
With her eyes she asked how she looked.
And I said, 'You look amazing.'
'Thank you,' she said and joined us.
She sat right in front of me. She really looked so beautiful in Indian-wear. I wished everybody in
that house would vanish for a couple of hours, so that I could keep staring at her that way.
We all started talking. Every now and then, she was adjusting her chunni which kept sliding down
her right shoulder. On her mom's insistence, she picked up a few cashews from the dry-fruits bowl,
leaving the dhokla and rasgullas because they would mess her lipstick. At times, she looked at me and
noticed how I was looking at her with everyone around and she silently begged me to take my eyes off
her. But men will always be men.
To break her spell on me, she started talking to me.
'What time is your flight tomorrow?'
'7:30 in the morning.'
'So you'll have to leave the hotel at around 4:30, then?'
'Yeah, I have to wake up early tomorrow.'
And we all kept talking for a while. I was much more comfortable by then, apart from the fear of
being offered more food. Girish wanted to leave. He had just risen from the couch when we heard a car
arriving at the gate.
'Hey! Ami di aa gayi,' Neeru almost sang that, rushing to the door and peeping out.
'And Pushkar?' I wanted to confirm the arrival of another male too.
'Unke saath hi to aayi hongi,' Girish said.
And few seconds later, both Pushkar and Ami di came in, wiping their shoes on the door-mat.
Everyone stood up to welcome them, as if they were the ones for whom we all had assembled. Seeing
them, I got up too.
'Wow! Such a warm welcome for the second son-in-law of the house. Hmm … I'm the next. Tough
competition, dude!' I thought to myself.
In her black top and blue denim, Ami di looked like a professional, 21
st century lady. Her denim
was in the latest, weird fashion—the one in which girls would fold up their jeans' legs a few inches
above their ankles, showing the light, inner colour of the denim. I don't know what's so exciting about
it. We guys used to do that while playing soccer in mud, in our school days. Her glasses had a stylish
frame, and she had a different style of tying her hair at the back—of course, a modern one.
Altogether, Ami di appeared a 'Yo! Yo!' girl.
A 'Yo! Yo!' girl, in our term means … a … a … Yo! Yo! kind of gal.
The thing which I liked most in her was the red and white bangles covering both her hands. Of
course, they revealed that she got married that very year. According to custom, these bangles stayed
on the hands of a newly-married girl for almost a year.hear.
'Ah, umm … Yes, I can. With most of the things, I am kind of OK. But I make good paranthas …'
I hadn't even completed, when her sweet and innocent mother, delighted by my answer, asked me,
'Kaun kaun se paranthe?'
'Now this is too much!' Well, I didn't actually say that, but that's what I was thinking and I
wondered if I was supposed to recite a menu list, like Pappu uncle from the Punjabi dhaba at Burla.
But, interestingly, the next moment I had a smile on my face. I was amused at the kind of questions
being put to a software engineer. I never thought I'd be facing such an interview, not even in my
weirdest dreams. I was happy that, for a change, I was being asked such different questions. I told
myself, 'These were not bad questions but exciting ones. Be confident and go ahead.'
And I went ahead and said, 'Mumma, I can prepare many—aaloo ke, pyaaz ke, occasionally gobhi
ke and mooli ke bhi in the winters.'
'Wow! Ravin, that's good. When did you learn all this?' Pushkar asked. He seemed to be quite
interested.
And I told him, 'When I was in Belgium for eight months. I lived there alone and had to cook for
myself. Before that, I never did any cooking. Necessity is the mother of invention, you know …'
Keeping my glass of Coke back on the table, I told them the story of my first day in the kitchen,
where I wanted to make a mixed-veg dish, but ended up preparing a hot pool of spicy, coloured water
in which vegetables were swimming. Some of them were so over-boiled, they turned into paste and
settled down at the bottom.
And, as was expected, everybody laughed at Day One of my Cookery Show. My Khushi, with a
mouthful of soft-drink, was trying to, somehow, hold back her laughter. Pushkar laughed loudly and
almost clapped his hands. It felt good.
And, soon, it was 2 p.m. No one realized how much time had passed—or, at least, I didn't.
'Lunch is ready,' Neeru announced.
By now I had made a little space in my tummy for the rajma which Khushi said she had made for
me. She knew it was my favorite.
We all moved towards the dining table, pulled out the chairs and sat. And she sat right in front of
me. I was looking at my future wife, thinking, 'A few months later, we will be having our lunch,
dinner and breakfast together and, that too, in the same plate.'
Amused with the same thought, I opened the lid of the bowl in front me.
'Neeru, you also come,' said Ami di, taking some salad. The dining table was full of various dishes:
paneer, raita, aaloo gobhi, salad, a rice bowl along with a casserole of chapattis and my favorite
rajma. The cutlery appeared new, the kind that was brought out for special occasions.
Everyone at the dining table was helping themselves and each other, passing the food stuff. I was
trying to get a serving spoon from the other end of the table, when Khushi stopped me and silently
said, 'Wait, I will get it.'
She picked up the spoon in one hand and a bowl in the other and served me. Then, she placed some
salad on my plate, and asked me, 'Chapatti or rice?'
I was looking at my caring sweetheart, who was helping me with my lunch. I was smiling inside,
maybe even outside, and in my heart I asked her, 'You will always take care of me this way … Right?'
'Chapatti or Rice?' she again asked, raising her brows.But who was hungry then? Her care and love for me had already filled me. Still, I said, 'A … A …
Chapatti.'
With her beautiful hands she opened the casserole and quickly moved her hand back to avoid the
hot steam. Her bangles tinkled. Then, with three fingers she folded two chapattis in half and, very
gracefully, placed them on my plate. She looked at me and smiled. I wanted her to feed me with her
own hands so that I could lick her beautiful fingers … All of a sudden, I wanted to marry her and
marry her very soon. So that I could lie down in her lap. So that I could have my meals from her
hands.
Everyone went ahead with the lunch. The moment I had that bite I knew those anxious eyes were
expecting a response from me. I looked up into her charming eyes and told her I loved what she had
prepared for me. She smiled and felt so satisfied when she noticed that I had the rajma before
anything else. She then took her first bite, after I did.
We got busy with our meal and the conversation reduced and narrowed down to the appreciation of
the lunch and the people who had prepared it. I believe it was quarter to three when we were through. I
was all packed with delicious food, pudding and fruits (dessert, for which I struggled to make some
space in my tummy).
Conversation resumed at the sofa and chairs again. This time it involved humor—good jokes, poor
jokes, and jokes which were not jokes at all. Even her mother was laughing aloud, along with us
youngsters. And, at times, I noticed a different smile. A smile which was not on her lips, but in her
eyes. A smile which told me that she thought I was a nice guy. A smile which revealed that, soon, she
would be prepared to give her daughter to me, for the rest of her life. A smile which was blessing me
and her, for a bright future. And somewhere, silently, that smile also whispered in my ear the words
from her heart, 'With her, I will be giving you my heart. Take care of her … Always'
It was 4 o'clock in the evening when we had a cup of tea. 'We', meaning Pushkar and I, as rest of
them did not drink tea. Yes, no one in that entire family drinks tea. Strange family—that's what
Pushkar and I feel.
Meanwhile, Khushi went to her room and, the very next moment, I was astonished to see her SMS
on my cell. Wondering why she did that, I read the message.
I'll cal u in 2 min. u go out
in the veranda 2 receive d cal.
Don't let oders kno dat I m calin.
And she called me up.
I acted as if it was one of my college friends and, talking to this college friend of mine, I went out
into the veranda, and from its furthest corner asked her, 'Where are you calling from?'
'Bathroom,' she replied.
'Wow! What are you doing there …?' I asked mischievously.
'Shut up! Now listen to me,' she said, trying to explain something to me.
And, for the next minute, this is what I said:
'What!?'
'Are you crazy?'
'Wow!'