I met Ivy today after a
long time!
It was back in Calcutta
when I found this damsel in her mid teens, too quiet yet most endearing. And
almost ten years after, she is more gorgeous and was sharing her crackerjack
experiences of discotheques in Delhi with the gangofgirls; unusually sparkling
eyes were associating the narration! The style of living has certainly changed,
thanks to load of attributes carried by movies and media. We talked about
future, far and near. She said she'll get married off to a B'lore based IT
professional but sounded quite apprehensive while taking it further with me.
"Why, you must be too happy about it!" She replied with a positive
note but didn't missed to express in gestures and kinesics her quest whether
the dreamt-off future will be too cherishing.
She had broken
relationships with two guys in recent past and was unhappy about the way all of
them led it to futility. The wheeling of the camaraderie started under the
bluish haze in some pub of Delhi and apparently took a wrong turn. Luster,
waltz and wine were shared but then, the amazing walkway of life got lost in
maze. The tinge of love turned into a pun making her even disquieted about
being happy.
Ivy is lost; she is no
more the one who used to laugh quietly and most meaningfully to the unmusical
songs I hummed once, she is now an intriguingly reticent wayfarer moving across
the timelines of life and trying to hide tears with her flabbergasting
chronicles of Delhi discos!
Bittoo called up to
plan a weekend party. He was my Finance lecturer, later colleague and now, a
good friend. (Good friends are those who disturbs and abuses each other
unnecessarily only to burst into laughter!)
His drinking habits and
dangling around girls have reached ultimate recklessness out of marooned
desires!
I was little too caught
up in middle of meetings, sudden rains and a what-to-do-where-to-go businesses.
The west wind was
strong on the 10th floor balcony, much captivating than what pegs can afford to
two ever-thirsty souls.
"Hey, ha ha, look
at this SMS, 'all girls are stupid...Why?'"...
"Not all, at least
Trina, is it..!" I poked.
A swift silence slipped
along with the cool breeze and roared into the room.
Bittoo and Trina were
about to marry but it didn't go that far.
Trina wanted to be
financially independent and Bittoo condemned it always. It has gone beyond
count how many times I told him not to be too blatant in front of us on these
issues and with Trina around. But his complexes compelled him to take decisions
on a relationship that could have been flowered into unbelievable shade of
colors for next thirty years.
They parted ways.
Bittoo is a well-established yet scotch-stricken bachelor by now and Trina,
after long battles with misfortunes has succeeded as a single mom serving prestigious news daily.
"Go back to Uncle
and Aunt, they must be waiting for you to bring home a pretty bride soon",
I was nervous yet couldn't stop throwing it up.
A chunk of silence
followed.
I lit up a cigarette
and was feeling too sozzled.
Bittoo opened FB;
"hey, look at Trirav, he is trying to get up and walk, such a little red
devil he is, my little champ will surely be a soccer player someday you
know!", Bittoo uttered in an extra energetic yet reposeful manner.
I gazed at the
photograph. Trirav (Bittoo's coinage, Tri = Trina, Rav = Gaurav/Bittoo) aka
Tirtha is the two years old son of Trina and her divorced husband.
Life takes away lot of
colors as well but the new shades that are given back can be more enticing.
The rain has stopped
suddenly. My rickshaw was plying through the shadowed reflections of the street
lights over the rain-drenched road. Another rickshaw crossed from behind
addressing "I went to and fro Sarita Vihar to Metro station till 11 'o
clock yesterday."
"Oh, kudos you
must have made your day", replied the other.
"Oh no, after
returning home I found one hundred and eighty rupees missing!"
"God, what a
waste!" and the former one moved out of the range of conversation.
I was alarmed. If
fifteen rupees means 2 kilometers, this guy has traversed 12 kilometers
carrying passengers without anything! And back at their home awaits hungry
kids, poverty, pay-outs to local lenders.
I came out in an
ostensibly lighter note "May God be good!"
"God is not there
for us, Saab. We earn and fight and lose on our own. We are sure our kids will
follow soon. But, we are also sure they will too do well. This is how we did
well and they will, too!"
I am ambiguous whether
to call it a lesson/learning or an emotional conjunction of higher order yet I
find a lot of moral boast irrespective of what it appears to be technically.
"Nice to hear from
you, want to have some tea?"
"No (thanks) will
be better off with some more trips!" He rushed.
This H-Block market is
wonderful. Every day I sit beside the road with a cup of tea watching many
Ivys, Bittoos, Trinas, Tirthas and rickshaw-wallahs moving merrily. Different
ambitions, different achievements, elevated and escalated life-style but tuned
to one certain string. What?
"All through the
darkness of night, I keep alight the lamp on the corner stand of my room and
waiting.
Perhaps, the time has
come to blow it off; O the overflowing moonlight, even the gloom in corners of
my heart is deluged!"
(Tagore)
