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Authors: Ravinder Singh

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I Too Had a Love Story (16 page)

BOOK: I Too Had a Love Story
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‘Do you want to talk to Ravin?’ her mother asked her.

And from outside came her faint, childish, arrogant voice, ‘Mumma, tell him I am busy planning my engagement, so don’t disturb me.’

She was so lost in the euphoria of her engagement that she probably forgot the person whom she was getting engaged to!

I left my cute princess to her work. But before I hung up, I let her mother know about our reservations and the time when we’d be arriving at Faridabad. And I heard Khushi’s, ‘La … La … Laaaaa …’

I was wondering how she was handling all this. On one hand, I was struggling to get everything completed for the ceremony. My life was screwed up: booking tickets, calling and planning all my friends’ schedules, buying clothes and jewelry. And shopping for all the ‘miscellaneous’ things—which was the biggest headache of all. I was tired. I was frustrated. On the other hand, Khushi was handling all this so easily. Laughing, kidding, enjoying each and every second. Planning, shopping and trying
everything on, one more time. I envied her for being so relaxed amid all this. And I loved her for this very reason.

Done with my lunch, alone in the food-court of my office that afternoon, I was laughing recalling her euphoria. I felt happy for her and for myself for having her in my life.

Khushi’s funda of life was so simple, yet fruitful—she wanted to live and enjoy every moment of her life. She kept saying, ‘Forget what others think when you wish to dance in the rain. Just do it. It’s your moment. It’s your happiness.’ She was correct when she said engagements, marriages, love (or, to be precise,
first
love)—all these are one-time occasions. Therefore, they are precious. You have to celebrate them. You have to make them memorable.

Thinking of all this even I wanted to act crazy. ‘Yes! It’s my engagement,’ I said to myself in excitement. And with a last sip of water I returned to my office to complete the leftover tasks, before I went on leave.

I filled in my leave form, for the next two weeks, on my computer. In the ‘reason’ section of the form, I wrote, ‘It’s my engagement! My cell won’t be reachable for any code fixes or test reports, but only for your good wishes.’

Later that night, I was feeling this excitement creating waves in me. Soon I would be engaged. I would be called somebody’s fiancé. The freedom of being with my friends and staring at other girls may be gone. That one ring, which I would soon be wearing on my finger, would stop all incoming traffic of other girls. My bachelorhood was going to expire soon …

Would I enjoy my life going forward, just the way I did till now? I didn’t know. But I wanted that ring on my finger. I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t know the future but, yes, I wanted to marry Khushi. I was dying to. All of a sudden, I wanted to have her with me. I wanted to stare at her, kiss her,
love her. Ripples of romance were making troughs and crests in the ocean of my heart. I called her up.

The moment she picked up the phone I said, ‘I think I want to make love to you.’

‘Hmm? Haha. You’re nuts. I am in my office and have high-priority defects to be assigned for closure,’ she answered with a naughty laugh.

A few weeks back, she had moved to a US project and was working night-shifts. I knew that but I was so lost in my thoughts, I kept talking. ‘… And I want to close my eyes and feel your face with my fingers …’

‘Hey! Shona … Listen,’ she was still laughing, trying to halt my thought process.

‘… And then my fingers …’

‘Listen dear! Pleaseeeeeeeeeee. I understand your mood. But, I have some very urgent tasks,’ she said gently, so that I would not get hurt.

‘Screw work, screw defects,’ I said.

‘I love you dear. But this is my last day at office, before I take leave. Don’t you want me to complete all my work here so that I can enjoy my own engagement?’

This is how she always made me think and brought me back to reality.

‘Hmmm …’I said, to let her know I understood but, still, was disappointed.

‘I promise, I will wake you up at around five in the morning, as soon as I reach home,’ she quickly said to comfort me.

‘Wake me up at five. Why?’

‘Mmm … Maybe I’ll want to feel your fingers on my face …’

‘Gotcha! Enjoy working.’

‘Enjoy your sleep before an erotic morning. See you at five.’

She kissed me and returned to her ‘high-priority defects’.
Half asleep, I reached for my cell underneath my pillow. From the faint light coming in through the curtains, I could make out it was morning. I checked the time on the screen of my phone. It was 6.30 a.m.

I remembered Khushi was supposed to call me. Why didn’t she call? Did she fall asleep? Still in the mood to continue last night’s interrupted conversation, I dialed her number. I was still under my blanket on that chilly morning. For a long, romantic chat, I put on my hands-free and closed my eyes before I entered a world of romance with her.

Her phone kept ringing but she didn’t pick it up.

‘I won’t let you sleep dear,’ I murmured to myself and redialed.

To my surprise I heard a male voice. ‘Hello?’ The voice was breathing heavily.

‘Who is this?’ I asked, suddenly awake.

‘Girish.’

I could make out he was rushing somewhere. There were noises around him.

‘Why do you have Khushi’s cell?’

He didn’t answer but handed the cell to someone else.

‘Hello,’ said another male voice.

‘Pushkar?’

‘Yes, Ravin.’

‘What’s up,
yaar
? All you people? Where is Khushi?’ I asked anxiously, throwing off the blanket.

‘Ravin, we are rushing to the ICU. Khushi met with an accident.’

The Unexpected

‘W-H-A-T-?’ Something struck my heart. I jumped off my bed. ‘ACCIDENT?’ I rechecked.

‘While coming back from office, her cab met with an accident …’

My heartbeats increased. Pushkar then rushed off to see someone, probably a doctor and passed that call back to Girish.

‘Girish, tell me the truth. What has happened to her? Is she all right?’

He was silent.

‘Speak up! Goddammit. She is fine
na
?’ I shouted at him. I could feel my feet shaking, losing their grip on ground. And I started rushing here and there in my room.

‘I don’t know, Ravin.’

‘What do you mean you don’t know?’

He answered softly. ‘The cab got hit by some giant truck. The driver … the driver … he …’

‘What happened?’

‘He died on the spot.’

‘Oh God!’ That scared the hell out of me. ‘Girish. For heaven’s sake tell me about Khushi. Please Girish … Please.’

‘Khushi is in the ICU. The doctor’s haven’t confirmed anything. She has suffered a lot of blood loss ….’

I started screaming.

‘Was there anyone else in the cab?’ I further asked.

‘Yes, one more guy, who was sitting next to the driver. But he is fine. He has gotten some minor scratches. The car was completely smashed from the right side, leading to the fatal injuries to the driver on the front and Khushi who was sitting just behind the driver.’ Girish replied.

Moments later, Pushkar returned and comforted me, saying that the doctors were taking care of her and they felt they would be able to get the situation under control.

‘All of us are here, Ravin. Don’t panic. She will be all right. The doctors are positive. I have just talked to them.’

‘Yes, Pushkar. She will be fine. I am sure she will be. She
has
to be,’ I whispered, praying that my words would come true.

‘Listen, I will call you up soon to update you on her condition. Right now I have to go and check out her medicines and other things.’

‘Yeah … yeah … ya … You just go ahead with what’s required. I’ll … I’ll wait for your call.’

Back in my room, I was still in shock, wondering if all that was real or just a nightmare and that when I woke up I would find Khushi was well.

But, unfortunately, it was real.

I felt suffocated. I was trying to breathe in as much air as possible. I opened all the windows, trying to make contact with the world outside my home. I was alone in my house. And that terrible shock was tearing at me in my loneliness. I called up my parents but disconnected the call before anyone took it, wondering how to give them this news. I wanted to get a grip on myself first. So many fears crowded my mind. I didn’t know what to do, so I rushed to the other room, to my worship-place. With my hands joined, I said to God, ‘No! Don’t make these bad thoughts come true. Please God. Not her. PLEASE.’

Later that morning, I called my family to tell them. They did not believe what they heard first, but later helped me, saying she will be fine. I told them I was going to book the next available flight. For the rest of the day, I kept calling her family members. I was restless. I got my flight confirmed.

Before the day ended, I wrote an SMS and forwarded it to all my friends who were about to attend my ring ceremony.

Friends, there is bad news.
Khushi has met with an accident
and everything else stands postponed.

The next morning, I got up from my bed at around 6.30 though I had been awake since 5, struggling to get rid of all bad thoughts.

I went to my closet, opened it and, then, with my palms joined and eyes closed, I bowed my head in front of Guru Nanak’s picture which I kept on the first shelf. In my heart, I uttered, ‘Heal her wounds and make her well … Please! I know you can do that.’

I stood there for a while. A little later, I opened my eyes, looked up and walked away, leaving the closet door open. On my way to the bathroom, I halted to see myself in the mirror beside my computer table. I looked scared and pale. A tear was still on my right eyelash. I wiped it off and, taking a deep breath and putting on a false smile, I said to the mirror, ‘Your sweetheart will be all right. She is such a sweet girl. God cannot be so cruel that He’ll harm her any more.’ Saying that to myself, I rushed to the bathroom as I was getting late for my flight.

By 7.30 I was through with my bath. There was an hour left for me to get ready. Whatever I was doing, there were two names always on my lips: ‘Khushi’ and ‘God’.

I went to the closet, picked up my prayer book and then sat on my cot with my legs crossed. For the next ten minutes, I prayed with utmost devotion and concentration. There was pin-drop silence in my room. In my prayer, I again begged God to save my Khushi and get her out of danger. With this, I bowed my head in front of the prayer book, wrapped it in its bag and kept it back in the closet with utmost care. Saying my prayer every morning had been my daily routine since college and, probably, today, I was subconsciously demanding the results of my prayers.

I did not feel like having breakfast. How could I, when my beloved was unconscious in the ICU? I skipped it and left for the airport.

Outside, the bright sun was wishing good morning to Bhubaneswar. And I was desperate to get some good news about Khushi. Every now and then, I was checking my cell for any missed call or SMS. Early on Sunday, the roads were not crowded. I hailed an auto-rickshaw and without bargaining, for the first time in my life, I got in with my airbag.

‘Where?’ asked the auto-rickshaw driver.

‘Airport.’

By 9.30, I was at the airport. I got my bag checked in. There were still some twenty minutes left before my flight. I could not resist calling up someone in Faridabad to get an update on Khushi’s condition. I dialed her number. Someone picked up the phone.

‘Hello,’ said a feminine voice.

‘Hi! Misha di.’ By now I could recognize the voices of everyone in Khushi’s family.

‘Hi, Ravin. How are you?’

‘I am Ok didi, how are you? And any update from the hospital?’

‘The doctors have not attended to her this morning. They’ll probably give an update by eleven.’

I was getting restless, not knowing Khushi’s condition.

Misha di then asked, ‘When will you be reaching here?’

‘Right now I’m at the airport and my flight is going to depart in a few minutes. So, probably by one in the afternoon … I think the security check has started. I’ll have to hang up. Will see you guys when I reach there.’

‘Yes, yes. You go on. Reach here safely and then we will talk. Bye.’

‘Bye,’ I said and went to the security check.

A little later, I was in the aircraft, on my seat, trying to cheer myself up with the fact that I got a window-seat. But, in no time, I was worried again. I was lost in a series of thoughts, when a beautiful hand offered me some candies.

‘May I offer you some candies, sir?’ the air hostess asked.

‘No thanks.’

Even her lovely face could not get me to say yes. Maybe because no one appeared as beautiful to me, any more, as my own Khushi. And at that very moment, a thought flashed through my brain: ‘Once you fall in love, things like external beauty, apparel and so on become unimportant.’

The thought surprised me. I wondered if this was what we call the magic of being in love.

Whatever it was, but at that time I was sure about one thing—that I did not like myself in this mood at all. I mean, just the day before, I was so happy to see my blazer, her engagement ring and her
sari
. Look at me now. ‘Hey Ravin! You have to get out of this mood. This is absolutely not you,’ I said to myself.

By now, the aircraft, the passengers and those air hostesses were all in the air. I looked outside the window, observing the white clouds and those birds we passed by, a few seconds back. I wondered how long it would have taken me to go to Faridabad for weekend dates with Khushi, if I were a bird. I had almost lost myself in those happy thoughts, when the fat lady sitting beside
me asked me to shutter the window because of the scorching sun. I don’t know how the sunrays could have made her skin any darker. But anyway, I was not in the mood for an argument and I did what she wanted.

It was time for lunch now. I realized this when I saw the food trolley in the aisle. But I wasn’t feeling hungry. I was very sad, wondering how such a day had come. And, at the same moment, I knew that if I dwelt on these thoughts, the journey would be very hard for me. I made up my mind to have at least a sandwich and drive my mind away from those bad thoughts. ‘Think of something interesting or funny. Oh! How about planning a sequence of
bhangra
steps for the engagement night?’ I said to myself. Then had to add, ‘Which will now be postponed by a few months …’

By now, the food-trolley was beside me.

‘Excuse me, sir! What would you like to have for lunch?’ the air hostess asked.

‘You are excused, baby,’ I thought, forcing myself to change my mood. Aloud, I said, ‘Hmm … A sandwich with a Coke will do.’

‘You don’t want to have lunch?’ She was surprised.

‘This is my lunch for today.’

‘Ok. Veg or non-veg, sir?’ She smiled.

Wow! This time that smile appeared good to me.

‘You won’t be serving me both?’ I asked her as soon as she completed her question.

She looked at the food on her trolley, a little flustered, probably counting to see if she could spare two.

‘Hey, I was kidding. Give me a veg sandwich,’ I said, interrupting her.

She again smiled and served me the sandwich and Coke. I forced myself to come out of that gloomy mood.

‘Wow! That smile is pretty indeed,’ I told myself. The next moment I had this weird urge to check out her name tag. I don’t know why, but I felt that she was a Punjabi too. But before I could do that, she had gone to the row behind me. I tried to stand up a bit and turned back to look, but then I noticed that the fat lady beside me was staring at me, as if she had caught a guy in her neighborhood making passes at her daughter.

(‘You Men are dogs,’ Khushi always used to say to me. ‘And you are going to marry one of them, no?’ was my reply every time.) I sat back on my seat with a little disappointment and had my sandwich and coke.

I only realized I had fallen asleep when the announcement woke me up: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to land at Delhi airport in a short while.’

I became very anxious again, recalling the purpose for which I was traveling. A little later, I would be seeing Khushi in the ICU. I raised the window’s shutter to have a look at the view outside. It was drizzling.

All of a sudden, I felt a bit cold. Not due to the weather, but because of my nervousness and anxiety about her condition.

At 1.45, forty-five minutes late due to bad weather, the plane landed. In fifteen minutes, I managed to collect my air-bag and was outside the airport. At a distance, amid the crowd in front of me, I saw Deepu and Jiju waving to me. I waved back and moved towards them. Meanwhile, I switched on my mobile and saw some missed calls from Deepu.

‘How are you?’ Deepu asked, shaking my hand.

‘I am fine. How are you and any update on Khushi’s present condition?’ I asked, with my fingers crossed.

He then gave me an update, with some medical terms that were new to me. But, somehow, they did not make me
feel good. I then asked him if the overall situation was better than yesterday.

‘Hmm …’ Deepu was trying to frame his next sentence. I understood the situation.

I then acknowledged Jiju’s presence. This was the first time I was seeing him.

‘This is our elder Jiju,’ Deepu introduced me.


Sat Sri Akal
,’ I said and shook his hand.

‘I believe the flight got late,’ he said.

‘Yes, because of this weather … they wanted us to enjoy the scenic beauty of Delhi from up there,’ I pointed towards the sky with a smile, trying to make everyone a little relaxed.

We got into a cab. Delhi was quite chilly and I wanted to feel the cold so I took off my jacket. It took us more than an hour to reach the hospital in Faridabad. The cab driver left us at the entrance and drove to the parking lot.

We went into the hospital and took the elevator to the second floor. As I was getting closer to her, my fear was increasing and I started shaking a bit. I looked at the different faces in the elevator and their expressions which told their happy and sad stories. On the second floor, the elevator door opened.

Stepping out, I saw Pushkar coming towards me. I hugged him. Before he could ask anything about my journey and me, I asked him about her condition.

‘The doctors have updated me about her condition a few minutes back,’ Pushkar said, looking at all of us.

‘What kind of update. Tell me?’ I asked.

‘She is still unconscious but her condition is a little better since morning, though she is not yet completely out of danger. They are planning to operate on her fractured jaw and thighs in a day or two. Apart from that there are some blood clots in some section of her brain, though they’re not that critical and are likely to heal through medication.’

That ‘little better’ made us all feel a little better. Still, we were worried.

Though we knew that Pushkar has told us everything the doctors had told him, we kept asking him more questions, hoping that at least
something
would be positive.

Meanwhile, there was an announcement on that floor for all of us who were without ICU passes to go to the ground floor as the meeting time was over. Every evening, between 5.30 and 6, one or two people from the patients’ families were allowed to visit. I looked back to see where this announcement came from.

There I saw a door with the letters ‘I C U’ engraved on it. Intensive Care Unit. The meaning of the acronym made me shiver. A raw fear passed through me. This was the first time in my life I was standing in front of an ICU door, thinking about the person on the other side and what she meant to me and my life.

‘God, please,’ I said, staring at those bold letters.

I tried to look in from the little glass window embedded in that door.

BOOK: I Too Had a Love Story
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