Vishal is surprisingly warm and polite when I meet him. He suggests we meet somewhere to discuss on how to go about the assignment. I mention ‘Library’ and he smiles. “Library is not a good place to discuss, darling. Ms. Gupta is going to roast you alive, if you talk in her castle.” I look questioningly at him as If challenging him to come up with a better choice. “Café Coffee Day at 6 PM, today. And please don’t be late. I have an appointment to keep at 7 PM.” He neither asks me for my consent, nor my availability. In fact, he does not leave me any room to vote or voice for anything. So I just nod; feeling, and possibly looking dumb.
I wait for him for over an hour when he finally arrives at 6:40 PM. He, sort of, ramp walks to my table taking as much time as possible, all the way, smiling and taking sadistic pleasure out of my discomfort. I grit my teeth and try a plastic smile which refuses to come.
When we finally got up to leave at about 9 PM, we had talked about everything except the assignment. Rather, I talked and he listened. He asked me questions about virtually everything. Right from the first memories of my life to my first boyfriend, I found myself confiding in him on all. What I thought about the college, my classmates, the professors, my parents – how I sometimes feel stifled and suffocated in their over protective demeanor. To this day, I cannot find a logical reason as to what prompted me to do so. I had never opened up so much before anybody ever before. I always had boundaries with all the people I knew. And somehow, I completely trusted him and confided in him. Put words to my innermost thoughts and feelings to somebody who was a complete stranger. Worse than that, to somebody who I thought I hated. Maybe part of me liked him, maybe it is because I had not had a decent conversation with anyone in days or maybe it is his kind, gentle and understanding way that goaded me. I did not know that and I did not care. He had been a very good listener, nodding and punctuating at just the right moments and bringing out the feelings in me which even I was not aware that existed, till that point of time.
“It was great, knowing you and getting to chat with you”, Vishal says. Sub consciously, I start to search for a tinge of sarcasm and instantly rebuke myself for being so cynical. “Same here”, I say. He offers his hand and says, “Friends?” I take it and smile, this time honestly. He drops me at my hostel and mockingly blows a kiss at me. Then, without waiting for my reaction, he leaves. For the first time in days, I feel warm and cheerful. I like the feeling that I am experiencing and I like him.
This date, if I may be bold enough to call our meeting as one, helps me a lot to regain my lost self confidence and esteem. I begin to enjoy the college and my life became fun filled again. I keep meeting Vishal on and off in between classes or in the cafeteria. He is always polite, though not necessarily friendly. Our chats were limited to a ‘Hi’, ‘Hello’, ‘How are you’ and so on. He never prolongs the talk and though I want to, I never seem to be able to do so.
And then, I stop bumping into him all together.
After very careful and discreet enquiries, I find out that his GRE has drawn very close and he will come to college again after taking the exam in Bangalore. I don’t know why, but I start praying for his high score.
My prayers are answered when reliable sources inform me that he has secured 1560 out of 1600 in the exam and he will make it to the top universities of the US. I am very happy for him and make a very strong mental note to congratulate him, the next time I see him.
We meet, in Barista this time, a few days later. This time, our meeting is not pre-planned. We, in fact, meet accidentally. For some reason, he is all alone with a chocolate cake and an iced tea, when I walk in, along with my usual set of friends. My eyes lit up as I spot him and before I can put on a more appropriate expression, he catches my eye. He smiles, friendly actually, and gestures me to join him. Shamelessly, I desert my friends and go up to his table, pull a chair and sit down.
I remember every single moment of our ‘date’, that day. Every single minute. Every thought which had crossed my mind. Every small incident during those three hours in Barista. It was on that day that Vishal had proposed. He had proposed and I had accepted. Why will not I? For what reason?
We start with his recent success in GRE. I congratulate him and he had thanks me, a little too profusely as if I am the reason for his good score. The conversation flows freely and he talks about his dreams, aspirations and goals. He is very optimistic and full of hopes of making it big in life. I admire the way he is, so passionate about his dreams, his career and his life. So full of life. Maybe it is his charm. Maybe, his wit. Maybe, his personality. Whatever is the reason, I feel incredibly drawn to him. I don’t take much time to think when he let his heart out. I did not need to. It is, without doubt, the biggest decision I have ever made in all my life. And, the best decision I have ever made in my life. The decision I have never needed to regret, not even once.
There is not a twist in my story. My life is not an Oscar Wilde story, however much the readers may like it to be. Neither it is sad, poignant, or thought provoking. Life has been kind to me and God, merciful. It is four years now that Vishal and I are happily married. We are expecting our first child in a couple of months. All through these four years, Vissu has been most understanding, considerate and good to me. He is the best husband any girl can dream of. And I think I am really lucky.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
My Story - Part 1
He is the prince of my dreams, my obsession and my mania. Just a word with him, a sight of him, a feel of his breath, his touch; and even the most depressing times turn cheerful in an instant. He is my retreat from the cruel world. Oh, how safe and protected I feel when I am in his arms. I can forget the world and all the hardships I am facing when he talks to me in that smooth mellow, a la Johnny Walker voice. I can spend an eternity leaning my head on his shoulder and listening to that voice of his. God knows how many countless hours of my life I have spent that way.
I still remember our first meeting as if it has occurred only yesterday.
It is my first day in college and predictably, I am very nervous. I must be very naïve, perhaps ‘stupid’ is a better word, for; I approach a group of seniors to ask the whereabouts of the first year computer science engineering classroom. Before I can realize what is happening; I have sung a song and have saluted half a dozen ‘Sirs’ a dozen times. I am also asked to frog leap across a flight of stairs and as I stand there, pondering on what to do next, a light tap on my shoulder startles me.
He is lean, tall; with an angular face, aquiline nose and a two days’ old stubble. He is in a crumpled tee, faded low hip jeans, a Nike waistband and a red baseball cap. The first thought that comes to me is that he is super sexy, cool and ultra confident of anything and everything. He is also chewing gum and I can not but marvel at his fine set of teeth. They are very orderly and even the faint traces of nicotine on them seem to add on to his charm. He gives me a re-assuring smile and I am instantly comforted and begin to feel braver. I smile back at him, a nervous and polite one, and look accusingly at my tormentors.
“What is going on here?” he thunders. The tormentors’ jaws drop and they seem bewildered at his unexpected arrival. He glares hard at them and not getting any answer, turns to me. Something tells me that he is not on their side, maybe his voice or simply because I want to believe it. Before I can check myself, I blurt out, “I am being ragged.” “Is that true?” he asks in a tone that sounds menacing, at least to me. Not waiting for an answer, he turns to me and asks in a gentler tone, “Your first day in college, miss?” I smile and nod in affirmation. “Which department?” he asks. “Computer Science, my rank in the entrance exam is 18”, I say with a tinge of pride, not bothering to disguise it. “That’s wonderful”, he says smiling broadly. “Come, I will show you to your classroom.”
He begins to lead the way and after managing to shoot a look combined with hate and triumph, at my tormentors, I start to follow him. As I catch up with him, I say, “Thank you Sir, this is very kind of you.” “Oh, come on, that is nothing”, he says with a dismissal wave of his hand. “By the way, I am Vishal, computer science, third year. “I am Priya”, I offer my hand and he touches it lightly and smiles. “I guess we will meet in some courses, then”, I say. “Yeah, in some labs too”, he replies absent mindedly. This, for some unfathomable reason, makes me very glad and I begin to look forward for the same.
We cross the stairs and turn around a corner into a narrow corridor. I struggle to keep pace with him. Though he appears to be a bit on the thinner side, he seems athletic and quite handsome in his own rugged way. I notice that nobody bothers me anymore when he is with me, though there are curious glances from time to time. We are now directly opposite to my tormentors, though on a different floor. I throw a furtive glance at Vishal. Hmm… Vishal, interesting name. Vissu is a nice nickname to that and I smile at the thought.
I am completely lost in my thoughts and do not anticipate his halt. He stops abruptly and I bump into him. He turns back and says in mock seriousness, “What is the matter with you, lady? Do you have to follow me even when I am going to take a leak?” Peels of laughter shake the whole area and I suddenly realize that I am in front of the men’s restroom.
As I stand there, red with embarrassment and humiliation, unable to decide what to do next, Vishal crosses his arms and leans against the wall. He looks at me triumphantly, as if he has won a lottery. My brain screams at me to run away from the place, to turn tail and flee; but my legs refuse to obey. In the same mocking tone, he says, “Now darling, you are not supposed to complain to strangers that you are being ragged. And baby, once you are here, your rank in the entrance exam does not count anymore.” Slowly, I gain control on myself and with hot tears running across my cheeks, I make my escape from there.
Over the next couple of months, I slowly adjusted to the occasional ragging, and writing the lab reports and records of the ‘Sirs’ and ‘Madams’. The events of the first day in college and Vishal had terrified me so much that I constantly avoided everyone like plague. I never had a real conversation or interaction with any of our classmates too. College was no fun, as it is supposed to be, without any friends. I missed my old friends and my school desperately. What a fun filled life, I lived there. Why could not I have been there forever? What made me join engineering, of all the courses available? Why did I have to choose this college, of dozens of colleges available? Life has become dull, monotonous, terrifying and totally devoid of all the fun.
And then, one day, I thought I will have an attack.
Mr. Pravin Kumar Awasthi is a tall and robust looking man with big black curly hair and a huge moustache. His eyes are always blood shot and he appears to be perpetually in a bad hangover. He has a loud booming voice and he holds the entire college in terror. Everyone, including the principal and the management, it is rumored, is petrified of him. As luck would have it, he is our professor for English.
During an English class, one Friday afternoon, Mr. Awasthi is giving weekend assignments, and as always, his assignments are meant to be done individually and not in teams. As for me, I am asked to prepare a list of 500 most frequently occurring words in the questions of exams like CAT, GRE, GMAT and so on. Though I have a vague idea of what these exams are, I must confess that I cannot comprehend on how to go about it. Bewildered with the tough task ahead, I sit down and make a mental note to go and see Mr. Awasthi later and seek his advice.
I meet Mr. Awasthi later in the evening, on that day. He makes it very clear that his assignments are never altered once they are assigned. In case I find it tough to complete, I am free to take assistance of some senior, for instance – Vishal Bharadwaj, who is going to appear for GRE this year. “A very bright lad, I am sure he will help you”, he says. My heart sinks, hearing the dreaded name again, but I manage a smile and walk out of his office.
I still remember our first meeting as if it has occurred only yesterday.
It is my first day in college and predictably, I am very nervous. I must be very naïve, perhaps ‘stupid’ is a better word, for; I approach a group of seniors to ask the whereabouts of the first year computer science engineering classroom. Before I can realize what is happening; I have sung a song and have saluted half a dozen ‘Sirs’ a dozen times. I am also asked to frog leap across a flight of stairs and as I stand there, pondering on what to do next, a light tap on my shoulder startles me.
He is lean, tall; with an angular face, aquiline nose and a two days’ old stubble. He is in a crumpled tee, faded low hip jeans, a Nike waistband and a red baseball cap. The first thought that comes to me is that he is super sexy, cool and ultra confident of anything and everything. He is also chewing gum and I can not but marvel at his fine set of teeth. They are very orderly and even the faint traces of nicotine on them seem to add on to his charm. He gives me a re-assuring smile and I am instantly comforted and begin to feel braver. I smile back at him, a nervous and polite one, and look accusingly at my tormentors.
“What is going on here?” he thunders. The tormentors’ jaws drop and they seem bewildered at his unexpected arrival. He glares hard at them and not getting any answer, turns to me. Something tells me that he is not on their side, maybe his voice or simply because I want to believe it. Before I can check myself, I blurt out, “I am being ragged.” “Is that true?” he asks in a tone that sounds menacing, at least to me. Not waiting for an answer, he turns to me and asks in a gentler tone, “Your first day in college, miss?” I smile and nod in affirmation. “Which department?” he asks. “Computer Science, my rank in the entrance exam is 18”, I say with a tinge of pride, not bothering to disguise it. “That’s wonderful”, he says smiling broadly. “Come, I will show you to your classroom.”
He begins to lead the way and after managing to shoot a look combined with hate and triumph, at my tormentors, I start to follow him. As I catch up with him, I say, “Thank you Sir, this is very kind of you.” “Oh, come on, that is nothing”, he says with a dismissal wave of his hand. “By the way, I am Vishal, computer science, third year. “I am Priya”, I offer my hand and he touches it lightly and smiles. “I guess we will meet in some courses, then”, I say. “Yeah, in some labs too”, he replies absent mindedly. This, for some unfathomable reason, makes me very glad and I begin to look forward for the same.
We cross the stairs and turn around a corner into a narrow corridor. I struggle to keep pace with him. Though he appears to be a bit on the thinner side, he seems athletic and quite handsome in his own rugged way. I notice that nobody bothers me anymore when he is with me, though there are curious glances from time to time. We are now directly opposite to my tormentors, though on a different floor. I throw a furtive glance at Vishal. Hmm… Vishal, interesting name. Vissu is a nice nickname to that and I smile at the thought.
I am completely lost in my thoughts and do not anticipate his halt. He stops abruptly and I bump into him. He turns back and says in mock seriousness, “What is the matter with you, lady? Do you have to follow me even when I am going to take a leak?” Peels of laughter shake the whole area and I suddenly realize that I am in front of the men’s restroom.
As I stand there, red with embarrassment and humiliation, unable to decide what to do next, Vishal crosses his arms and leans against the wall. He looks at me triumphantly, as if he has won a lottery. My brain screams at me to run away from the place, to turn tail and flee; but my legs refuse to obey. In the same mocking tone, he says, “Now darling, you are not supposed to complain to strangers that you are being ragged. And baby, once you are here, your rank in the entrance exam does not count anymore.” Slowly, I gain control on myself and with hot tears running across my cheeks, I make my escape from there.
Over the next couple of months, I slowly adjusted to the occasional ragging, and writing the lab reports and records of the ‘Sirs’ and ‘Madams’. The events of the first day in college and Vishal had terrified me so much that I constantly avoided everyone like plague. I never had a real conversation or interaction with any of our classmates too. College was no fun, as it is supposed to be, without any friends. I missed my old friends and my school desperately. What a fun filled life, I lived there. Why could not I have been there forever? What made me join engineering, of all the courses available? Why did I have to choose this college, of dozens of colleges available? Life has become dull, monotonous, terrifying and totally devoid of all the fun.
And then, one day, I thought I will have an attack.
Mr. Pravin Kumar Awasthi is a tall and robust looking man with big black curly hair and a huge moustache. His eyes are always blood shot and he appears to be perpetually in a bad hangover. He has a loud booming voice and he holds the entire college in terror. Everyone, including the principal and the management, it is rumored, is petrified of him. As luck would have it, he is our professor for English.
During an English class, one Friday afternoon, Mr. Awasthi is giving weekend assignments, and as always, his assignments are meant to be done individually and not in teams. As for me, I am asked to prepare a list of 500 most frequently occurring words in the questions of exams like CAT, GRE, GMAT and so on. Though I have a vague idea of what these exams are, I must confess that I cannot comprehend on how to go about it. Bewildered with the tough task ahead, I sit down and make a mental note to go and see Mr. Awasthi later and seek his advice.
I meet Mr. Awasthi later in the evening, on that day. He makes it very clear that his assignments are never altered once they are assigned. In case I find it tough to complete, I am free to take assistance of some senior, for instance – Vishal Bharadwaj, who is going to appear for GRE this year. “A very bright lad, I am sure he will help you”, he says. My heart sinks, hearing the dreaded name again, but I manage a smile and walk out of his office.
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