It would be their last train ride together. They climbed into the green first class compartment of the 6.15PM local train at Panvel station.With their black backpacks and a pair of books cradled in their arms, they looked like the archetypal young college going couple in their twenties.
He was tall, dark and handsome in an Indian way with thick bushy eyebrows and eyes that reflected a boyish innocence, a ticklish sense of humor that had almost everyone around in splits. What drew most people to him though was his impish smile. A smile that never left his face in his worst moments, when he had failed a few subjects, when he missed a crucial penalty in his team's football finals or at the time when, he was insulted by the Principal for being late. It was as if he laughed at some private joke all the time, as if he had seen the futility of it all.
She was as tall as him, slim and fair with silky long hair. Her pretty angelic face had a pair of eyes that reflected a tinge of green. In fact there wasn’t a guy in the class who did not find her cute. And for all that beauty, she didn’t cover herself up with a ton of “I am beautiful!” attitude. She was dignified, intelligent and smart and could crack people up with witty one-liners.
Together they formed the humor tag team of the class, supplying a daily dose of the lecture hall’s entertainment. They ate lunch together, traveled together always meeting up at Thane Station and getting off at Panvel. Over the course of four years they had become thick friends. The bond had always been confined to friendship, though. He was adept at hiding his feelings and in spite of her intelligence she sometimes missed the obvious.
Today was the last day of their engineering career, the final exam had ended a few hours back and college would formally end. No more train rides together he wondered.
Almost each day as they traveled to college together she would try to covet the window seat and like a chivalrous knight, he would almost always give up the window seat for her, his Madame’. He loved her, of course. But being shy, he never gathered the courage to share his feelings for her.
As usual he allowed her to take the window seat today. It always amused him, this fascination she had for the window seat. He was feeling groggy and restless possibly due to staying up all night for covering a few more problems in Robotics, yet he smiled his ever present grin and looked at her. She looked tired and sleepy from the previous night’s studying.
He closed his eyes and tried to doze off. Yet he couldn’t sleep. He was too overwhelmed with feeling to sleep. She could never sleep in a moving local train. So they chatted on about their future plans. At Vashi the singing beggar children entered the train. They started with an old song from the movie Dhadkan. He had never fathomed why the beggar children always sang this song.
“Jitna bekaraar hoon main,
Tum bhi bekaraar banlo,
Tum bhi Dhadkano ko samjho,
Tum bhi Mujhse Pyaar Karlo!”
And then in that crowded Bombay local train, as the beggar children sang of unrequited love, for the first time he comprehended the true meaning of the song and of love. In the four years that they spent together he forever debated with himself whether to tell her how he felt. Perpetually he would argue with himself, “It would ruin the friendship if she didn’t feel the same way.” Each time friendship won the argument over love.
But in that magical moment he decided he would tell her. “Umm!” just as he cleared his throat, a cell phone rang. He cursed the freaking phone as she picked up the call, “Hey! Yeah, the exam was fine. I will see you in an hour. Love You!”
He looked at her in surprise. She flashed a conspiratorial smile and said “That was my boyfriend. Sorry, I never told you about him. I didn’t want anyone to know. You were saying something…”
“Nothing! When do you think will they declare the results?” he replied hiding back everything and looking away at the setting sun in the Arabian Sea. For once the smile had left his face.
Remember, remember the 19th of November
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And, so it begins again…the nail biting, the prayer bead counting, the
incantatory chanting, exhortations to all our gods. An India vs. Australia
decider i...
4 months ago
