YOU,YOURSELF AND ME

“Well Sameer, meet  Rithin. Rithin this is Sameer, my husband. Rithin works as a freelance artist. He was the scenarist macho of our batch. And he was one of my good friends.” I looked at her through the corner of my spectacles.

 She looks a bit fat and flabby now. A huge bindi stuck on her forehead made her face look more mature. The smile still had an aroma that has not fainted a bit with her age.

“Where do you usually work, Mr. Rithin?” a question sharpened by IIT schooling was shot at me by Sameer.

“Well I am much like a travelling salesman. I go around India visiting theatre and art schools. Who so ever in need of a scenarist hires me. Of course the pay will be little less due to this nomadic lifestyle. But I am contended. After all these there is no time to think about the yesterdays”. I finished my sentence shooting a glance at Nikita through the corner of my eye.

How long it has been? Probably ten years. How could she be so indifferent after such a short span of time? Maybe it isn’t a short time. Maybe she has started prioritizing her life. Maybe she has more photos to add to her family album. Her first wedding anniversary, baby’s first birthday, husband’s first promotion, new car, new studio apartment, Son’s 5^th birthday, husband’s first salary increment, son’s first karate class, 10^th wedding anniversary… she would hardly find room to squeeze in an old Pal’s photo.

I am confused and wounded when there was an alumni celebration was going in full swing in the backdrop. I tried to blend in. tried to fake smiles.

Let’s get a flash back, shall we… Say some 10 years before…

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“Will you keep in touch?” her eyes had a tinge of red in them.

“I will try to. I don’t know. I may go places for a while. After all, every wound needs time to hea, right?” I replied in vexation.

“Are you angry with me?” her voice broke.

“Why should I be, Niks? Should I be? I don’t know. After all, it’s not your fault. I was the one who broke into your life without proper authority. I must be ashamed of that.” I drew closer.

“I really love you, Rithin, but only as my friend. I can’t see you in any other form. God I am so helpless.” She was crying.

Her tears and sobs were literally drowned by the hustle in the hall. A huge golden yellow banner hung in the zenith of the hall, which said “Goodbye class ‘10” in crimson red. Everybody was crying and everybody else was consoling. There was occasional wisecracking by some way too jolly classmates. I could only hear their voices. My vision blurred by a tear, for apparently the wrong reasons. My courage was under fire.

“If I ask you to make a decision now, will you come with me? I mean, not like running away or something. Let’s ask your dad first. Then my dad. I still can support you. After all, in a week there would be a campus selection and I am expecting to get a good placement. Will you marry me? I really need you in my life. I will always need you this much. Please don’t make this any worse. I …”

“It is worse already. I am not able to make a decision. I just can’t. Dad’s going in for a proposal or something lately. I can’t face him for a thing like that. He would not stand it. Please…”

I get it. But let me say this one thing. If there was anything wonderful in my life, that was you. And I am way too thankful to you.” my eyes cut away from hers. It was farewell.

“But, I really…” her sobs drowned her words, while I was making way for the door. The place was already wretched for me and I didn’t want to see her crying anymore. It was too heartbreaking. If she thought I was walking away from her, then fine and good. Atleast, she will get peace of mind in future. The sobs grew distant.

Let’s have another flashback shall we… Say some 8months…

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“Look, I don’t want to go with this any further. I don’t want you to take it way too seriously as you are doing now. It’s not good for us. I mean I hate to think anything near to a commitment. Let’s just be friends, shall we…”

She spoke with impeccable speed. And I was tongue tied when she ended her short talk with a clause. I didn’t know what else to do. I mean, this is what I get after 3 and half years of devotion. Of course you don’t feel that somebody is really necessary for you all of a sudden, do you? Especially for a guy like me who don’t give a damn for this thing called “love at first sight”. I am the man for love at the second or third or subsequent sights. And I don’t jump into conclusions. After all that brainstorming I done in my room looking at her photo made me take this decision. Finally I stood up to her and proposed her.

A short two sentence proposal, it was. “Niks, I have been quiet close to you and I think I am in love with you. Please don’t hate me for that.”

Oh, what a screw up that was? I mean that last part. I bet I can’t look her straight in the eye and say what I felt. I neither had a fine head start to fire up. All I could manage to spit out was that much. And I didn’t find much of enthusiasm in her face that could make my hopes high.

Boy I should tell you that those were godforsaken words from a best friend. I mean, put myself in her shoes, and then think about saying something like that.

“For a second, put yourself in my shoes and think about saying something like that.” Now that’s what is called as mind reading.

“Now I will go on thinking that this is some kind of a trick that you pulled up on me. I will stay as your best friend just like the old days.”

Ya, just like the old days. Tell me about it. Last week do you know what happened to Ganesh who proposed Lyla. She turned it down saying that “this conversation never took place. And consider me as your friend. But not more than that.” She never spoke to him after that. Poor guy, drank up all of his cough syrup and went in front of the ladies hostel to sing his favorite Keerthana out of his memory, and ended up in a police lock up.

Spare me my lady. I don’t want to end up drunk and later dunk in a police lock up. I pretended that I carefully heard each word she said and made a rock strong resolution to follow them. But inside my head I was just saying, “Who you think you are?” As I sped through the corridor I labored hard to clear my mind of her. But the damage was still catastrophic.

Let’s a get third flashback shall we (now this is final!!!)….

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3 years 10 months 6 days and 30 hours earlier, 500 miles apart, I was playing cricket with my friends when ii heard that the entrance result came out. Four eyed Ramalingam came running to our territory yelling that he got a good 3 fig rank. I too rushed. Guys I was not much of a brainiac, yet I got a handsome figure in my mark sheet. Finally I too can go to college. Of course the happiest people are going to be your father and mother. And when their happiness was overflowing par the limits, I bravely asked for bike. I thought it would be an offer they can’t resist. I can’t imagine how quickly they came back to their senses. Not only they denied me a bike, but they got me into some career counseling so that their boy was always heading the right direction.

And so after 3 months, when I entered right through that gate of the prestigious engineering college, I was not the coolest of dudes. I hate it when they show in the TV, that only the sporty-masculine-riding-bike-on-single-wheel dude gets all the girls and all the action. I really can see the difference now. The day I entered that college, I lost my virility. I was nothing but a shy and talk-bullshit-round–the-clock goof ball. After the routine raging and nagging and the christening as the men’s hostel’s own, I went out to make my own name.

I mean in a college, if you got to make a name, either you have to join sports (In sports, I suck big time. Remember that cricket match I was talking to about, I went out for a duck in that…), or you have to visit the library often. The second was easy to start. But very hard to get on with.  The minute you get into the library, even the harmless catalogue makes you nauseous. Moreover, other bastards never want you to a brainiac…alone. So they’ll poke you and mock in all possible means. After a while the public beating came down a bit. Certainly my knowledge level was increasing. I now knew all the regulars in the library. I mean girls…

So a fine Monday afternoon, due to a very high probability of me dozing and the lecturer cursing, I went out into the library. I opened a giant book right at the middle, leaned over it, with, my neck resting on it and passed out. Some applied mechanics, the book was on. I don’t really care, because everything appeared statics to me.

Then it came. I mean, she came. I didn’t know she was there. Because I was sleeping, goddamnit. And I refused to get up at the lavender fragrance when she approached me. Of course all those sleep waking gimmicks in perfume advertisements are all farce.

“scuse me. Is that Applied Mechanics?”

“Huh, what? Oh no. It’s only 2 in the afternoon. But thank you.” if you want to know the perfect mix between an idiot and a loser, talk to me. I just succumbed into my slumber.

I could hear her giggling.

“Would you mind me taking a look at your pillow, mister?” her words were mixed up with a giggle.

I looked up and with a startle. That was the first time I laid eyes on her. I didn’t feel a thing. She wasn’t the fairest lady in the land. Neither had she had the most beautiful eyes.

I was quiet attracted to her of course. And that was the very reason I quickly got up from the book and furiously hid the spot where I was drooling over the book.

“You in S1?” she asked in voice feebler than a whisper.

“Yupp. Rithin.” I rubbed my saliva drenched hand in my t shirt and extended it to her. I know I was making a fool out of myself. She hesitated to shake hands. Instead, she just winked at me. My!!! Those eyes were beautiful.

That day after exchanging a few words we parted. She too was a hosteller. On my way back to the hostel I was cursing myself like a mad man. After all is this the way to behave to a girl? And, my god, haven’t I forgot to ask her name? I need to get my nuts tightened. That was the last time I thought of her that day.

3 more weeks later, I found myself daring enough to ask her name. That day she was in the canteen enjoying a tea. I was approaching her with a confident smile. I am not sure that she saw me. But I couldn’t meet her till I reached the edge or the table.

“Is this seat taken?” I politely started firing up.

“Nope. Not till now.”

“May I?” I already took the seat before politely requesting. And then I started eating my meal. I didn’t look at her till her tea was over. I was looking down on my Dosas, counting the holes in it. when I could make out that she was going to leave the seat, I rocketed my head upwards and asked her,

“What should I call you?” Screw you. is that the way to ask the name of a girl?

“Oh, hey I think you want to know my name so badly and you don’t want to talk to me, right? Afraid to ask me?”

Afraid? Me? Go to hell Homo sapiens female. I just couldn’t figure out a way to ask you your name. That is all.

“I couldn’t think of any better words. It’s stupid. I think you can pardon me for that.” I was still counting holes. But now at the ceiling.

“There is no need to be sorry for what you asked, I guess. My name’s Nikita. Friends call me Niks.”

“Okay. Thank you. See you soon. Bye. Take care.” My count was lost. I rushed to the wash basin and off to the counter. Within she could say, “My pleasure”, I was out of the place.

3 months later, I found myself strangely under her spell accompanying her everywhere she goes. I was her friend now. I started calling her Niks. The encounters usually occurred in the library, and it sort of made me lose my sleep time at the library. I started to find out more about her. Her family, her likes and dislikes, her favorite music, her dressing sense. And one thing kept on bugging me.

We were on the geometrically opposites in all respects. I mean, I did never like Karan Johar and his crappy film making. She liked it as if she breathes in and out with Karan Johar. She nearly killed me once when I was downsizing Karan Johar’s films. I liked Akira Kurasowa. She never really knew that man. Whenever I start off to give a lecture on his masterpieces, she seems to go in for a nap. She liked pulp Fiction. I liked wrestling matches. She liked cold cream. I liked to set deodorant bottles to fire. She had a crush for exotic foods and sea food. But man, I couldn’t hold my desire for local masala and chat. All she knew about cricket was that Dhoni had long hair and only recently he got a haircut. Sometimes she made me hopeless. Sometimes she made me furious.

3 years later, we were so close that we could tell what the other was thinking just by looking into each other’s eye. Three major exams went by. And with her efforts, I passed all the three. I find it hard to think of what help I was for her. Of course I never made her sleep when she was studying with me. I always made up some stupid doubt to bug her every now and then.

When you are with your best friend, you have all the time in the world. You have nothing to worry about. You have no liabilities or miseries. If you have something, it is plain confidence.

Once she asked me a question that turned my world upside down.

“Rithin… can I ask you something?”

“Shoot it right away”

“You are my best friend. Tell me what you will do after I get married”

“Married to whom?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“You know. Somebody. Anybody. What will you do then? After all you can’t come home and talk to me every day. You cannot call me every day also.”

“Who said I can’t. I will come to your house every night, tie your little ‘Romeo’ to the bedside and talk to you all night.” Both of us burst into laughter.

“I am asking for real dummy. I mean, for a married woman, her family is above all. Nobody would accept a friendship above that.” She sounded serious. I like it when she becomes serious. Her eyebrows make a cute strange curve. It makes her more beautiful.

 “Well then, I will marry you. I will come to your home and hold your dad at gun point. And ask him, Hey mister, give me your daughter, or else, I will kick your butt big time.”

She just winked her wide eyes and started laughing. We both were laughing our guts out.

“You are such an idiot, you know that?” she said when she could manage to get a hold on her breath.

That was all. The conversation ended there. Back in my room, I was banging my head hard on this one creepy idea. It left me speechless, sleepless and of course like any other crazy lover, appetite-less. Day in day out, I was fancying myself as the lover of my best friend Nikita. I loved every bit of the idea like I loved her. I couldn’t make a difference between being the best friend and being a lover. When finally a day came when I couldn’t hide my weight loss from her eyes, I had to face that age old trivia, for the first time in my life.

“Hey Rithin. You have thinned yourself to the bone. What’s bugging you lately? Any girl matter” She giggled at me winking those beautiful round eyes.

I found it hard to look into those eyes when it came to matter. Speaking to her was even worse. I was literally tongue tied. But somehow, I said it. I said it all.

Since that day, neither of us had gone through that same old heartwarming friendship. She found new plans to avoid me. Hanging out more with her roommates, going to the swimming classes in the evening and spending more time inside her room, these all were a few of her errands which sort of cut our contact short. I never made new friends. I was always trying to explain it to her, but she never gave me a chance to do so. Maybe I was becoming juvenile, uttering the wrong words to her. But as the separation grew, the feeling I had for her also grew. It now reached somewhere near an unquenched desire for winning her love.

I started to show off. All I wanted was to seek her attention. But all I ever earned was more and more alienation. I was never the humorous wisecracking friend-to-all youngster. So every effort of showing off, I made a fool out of myself.

My grades also dropped. Somehow we both got through the final exam. It never really mattered to me, since I had other plans in mind. So it was a do or die situation up ahead of me. The farewell was in two weeks. This was the time when I finally decided to go up to her house and talk to her.

“Niks, it’s kinda painful to part. Please think about it. You know that na…” I said that as soon as we were alone.

“Dad’s looking for a proposal in a distant relation. I think some IITan hot shot.” Her failed attempt at sarcasm made me more and more morose.

“Please, cut the crap out Niks. All I wanted to say was that I am really looking forward to a life with you. I would never make the move unless you have thought properly and come up with an answer”

“Seems he is UK based and settled. I may need to furnish a passport before the engagement.” She was completely ignoring me. My patience was wearing thin.

“Are you listening to me?”

“What will be your marriage gift to me, Rithin.” Her smile deliberately faked just for the sake of finishing off.

“Enough. I just don’t know why you are so much into this crap. Okay. You do whatever you want to do. The farewell is in 2 weeks. Come there and you shall see me no more. Think of an answer to tell me. Whatever you tell me, I am bound to obey.” I respectfully denied the tea that was offered and was gone in no time.

When it came to farewell, she was a very different person. Not a jolly jingle-all-the-way Nikita. What I saw was a pale human form with blood shot eyes with a residue of a long lost sleep. I could not take it anymore. I was creating an inferno so as to burn myself in it and to cremate my best pal. I was the evil doer. I knew there was no way she would agree to live with me. So I just did what oldies brand as a “necessary evil”. I walked away from her. In some creepy thought of mine, I was doing her a favor to choose between a wretched me and a HiFi life. I regret each moment of that walk out now and I am sure that I am going to end up in hell for that. But that was the only thing I could do if I wanted to give her a future.  Rather than pushing her into another set of mazes, I just packed my bags and went. And that was it.

There is a thing called as time. A medicine for the worst scald or the deepest cut. Time healed my scars. I hoped it healed hers too. I was travelling through places I haven’t even heard off. Whenever her thoughts came into, I refused to think. I used to run a mile of slumber through infinity just to put her off my brain. To be frank, I really couldn’t help it in the first couple of years. Every minute of everyday a waking dream would urge me to go back to her, and start my life anew. Bu the anchor of reality held me right where I was. I appeared in Varanasi for summer and slept through the autumn in Golconda, ate in the winter in Colombo and danced in the spring in Bangalore. I never really stayed anywhere. I lost my boyish feature. The eyes pitted with time, later hiding under a thick rimmed spectacles. Wrinkles appeared in my forehead. Beard started to stay indefinitely. 

And when I was finally something close to a nomadic sage, a revelation came to me as an invitation to a Get together party.  It was 10 years, since I have left Niks, and myself. Something inside me was calling me home.

And when I finally made it up to my alma mater, I saw her again. She recognized me in one look. But that old grace was gone. Yet her smiles had warmth which left me craving for her presence.

“How is life out there on the road?” She finally found some time in private.

“Well, not bad. Nobody wants a route map to hitchhike, right?” I wanted to laugh out loud, but my beard made it hard.

“It’s quite nice to see you smiling after a long time.”

“It’s quite nice to see you after a long time.” she smiled again.

“Well, Earth is round.” I was reliving those moments. Why the heck didn’t she introduce me as her best friend back in college?

After all who cares? I would go to moon for just to see her. Just to talk to her.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you to Sameer as my best friend…”

“It’s okay. Really. Let it remain our little secret.” I was looking into those eyes. They used to twinkle every now and then. Looking into those I thanked that old friend who took the toil to reach out for me to invite me for this party.

“Well. So long amigo.” I said it raising my wine.

“See you, dear.” She gave me a parting sigh and went away.

And at that precise moment, I remembered a piece from a Clint Eastwood movie.

“Old Dreams were good dreams.

I am afraid many of them never came true.

But I am glad that I had them.”