Keeping the Promises (3 page)

“Girls’ hostels are better Ansh!” Ansh’s mom said.

“It’s okay mom! They always get the advantage,” he gagged.

As Ansh was taking charge of everything, he asked his parents to wait outside the warden’s office and went in.

“Hello sir! We are here for…” Before he could finish his sentence, he cut him off,

“I know, for room possession. Sorry son, but you’ll have to wait for a while. Room allotments will take place in the evening,” he politely answered.

“But sir, my parents are with me and I have bulky luggage.”

“Don’t worry about that. Let me talk to your parents,” he said, settled his spectacles and stood up.

“Why the hell did I not send my parents first?” Ansh thought.

The warden walked out from his office and Ansh followed him. He shook hands with his father, “Sir, we are yet to get the full list of merit students and students from management quota. So, your son will be allotted a room in the evening. Keep his luggage inside the store room. You’ll get a badge from a guard outside. Stick this badge with your luggage, write his full name and admission number on it.” They followed everything he instructed and finished those formalities.

Then Ansh turned to his parents, “Dad-mom, you two should leave now. It will take two-and-a-half hours to get back to Ahmedabad and I want you to reach before afternoon! It will get hotter then and would trouble you to drive a non-AC car. I’m going to college now.” Ansh said, keeping his ideal son image alive.

“Don’t worry about us, son! We will be fine.” Ansh’s father said with a gentle smile and turned to his mom, “Let’s go then!” Ansh’s mom nodded. But since being a mother, she had to cry, she did. Only after calming her and seeing them off, Ansh went to college.

After having a completely absorbing first day at college, Ansh went to the hostel. He went to the storeroom first to get his luggage, but it wasn’t there. The guard said that his room partner had already taken the possession of it, which made Ansh agitated. Fumed, Ansh rushed to his room and all his anger was gone in a swish when he met his room partner there.

“Gajju? What the fuck is this?” Ansh asked in astonishment.

“Ah, I just couldn’t miss this million dollar expression of yours! That’s why I kept it from you. Dad took my admission in NRI quota. Now get ready for a six-year long honeymoon baby!” Dhruv simpered.

“With pleasure, you Asshole!” Ansh retorted. They were extremely delighted with the way things were going. On the same night, they ascertained three new friends – Shilpan, Aakash and Harsh who were lodged in the same lobby and belonged to the same city, Ahmedabad.

“That’s it?” She asked as I finished.

“Yes, for one day, it’s adequate,” I answered and reached her hands under the blanket.

“Since when are you and Ansh best friends?”

“Since the day we marked our footsteps in school.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

I gently rubbed her hands and took her in my arms.

“Now it’s promise time Mithu!” she murmured.

“Your wish is my command ma’am!” I bowed my head a little.

“Promise me! You’ll write a book on it and publish it.”

“What? Baby, writing for you is a different thing and writing a book is entirely different. They are great with words and I neither
have the writing skills nor the command over language or a good vocabulary to stand a chance,” I said trying to be as truthful as I could.

“Don’t grow sceptical on yourself, Mithu! I know things about you, which even you are completely oblivious of. Besides, our love story has to be conveyed and that would be your best dedication to me after my death.” She squeezed my palm to provide the faith I needed at the first place.

“Okay, I promise. Now kiss me and go to sleep.” I took her in my arms again and we slept, but not before blessing our lips with the goodnight kiss.

Is she really going to die? Can I convince her to start her therapies again?

The thought kept me awake for the entire night with M in my arms.

Six months have passed and not even a single day has dawned when he woke up and was not in tears. If you ask me, I believe he badly needs to see a psychiatrist, but I’m afraid to bring that up right now. Right now I’m just doing what he needs the most and what I was asked to do – be his unconditional support.

He is entering the coffee shop, with his laptop bag tucked around his right shoulder. He looks tired, depressed and preoccupied. This is not my best friend from childhood – this is a person who is broken and desolated with every living cell in his body.

“So, how was it?” I ask after he pours himself a glass of water.

“Horrendous, but better than the first day,” he softly answers.

“Can you narrate it?”

“Sure.”

And he starts reading.

2 February

B
y the time I woke her up, she already had a plate containing orchid flowers and an envelope beside her. I woke her by rolling
a leaf of orchid on her face. She gradually opened her eyes and blessed my morning with her smile.

“Morning!” she mumbled.

“Morning, my love!” I wished her with a brief kiss and helped her get up. She then picked up the envelope, opened it and read the note I had written for her.

Your blue sharp almond eyes,
Having a language of their own,
Never ending their temptation, seduction,
A glance of them strong enough to make me miss a beat,
You cannot take that away from me
.

She blushed as she read.

“How was it?”

“Good! For a start…”

“You smart bitch!’

“
Your
smart bitch!”

And she won this one. In the past two years, I had won almost all our outsmarting competitions. I didn’t mind losing now – I could lose it all my life if it helped.

“I’m hungry now!” She cutely demanded by twitching her radiating face.

“Let me make the omelette for you,” I said and stood up and saw our folks standing there.

“Good morning kids!” Dad wished enthusiastically.

“Good morning dad!” We echoed together.

“I’m going to make the breakfast for us,” I voluntarily opted.

“You’ll need my help in that,” Mom said.

“Okay, till then I’ll bathe my princess!” said Dad with a smile. They didn’t leave the room before noticing the orchids and envelope with a proud smile on their face.

Mom and I headed for the kitchen. As we reached, she – as a woman, always curious about recipes – told me, “So now you can teach me the secret of your special omelettes. I’ve heard a lot about them.” She chuckled.

“Anytime mom!” I grinned.

“What do you need?”

“Six medium peeled potatoes, one yellow onion, five eggs, two boiled eggs, chopped red peppers, two-three cups of olive oil and a pan to fry.”

Within five minutes she placed everything I had asked for on the platform. I then slowly started cutting the peeled potatoes in half – trying my best not to cut them paper-thin.

“Why are you being so careful with the potatoes? We could chop them in the chopper!” Mom asked curiously.

“Well, always take care of not using the chopper for making this omelette. It will cut them too thin, which will ruin the shape and taste too.” She nodded her head and started cutting the peeled onions.

After cutting the potatoes and boiled eggs adequately thin, I mixed them with onions and salted the mixture. I then picked up a non-stick frying pan, heated the olive oil on medium heat. By carefully placing the mixture of potatoes, boiled eggs and onion into the frying pan, I spread them all over the surface. I revealed the first secret to her,

“At this point, you must take care of not burning the potatoes. It will affect the taste otherwise. The oil should cover almost all the potatoes.” She nodded in affirmation and I poked a piece of potato with a spatula to check if it breaks in two – it did. I signalled to mom that the potatoes were done. I then removed them from the pan with a spatula, allowing the oil to drain. After frying them, I placed the potato and onion mixture in a colander for a few minutes to allow
more oil to drain. I did not forget to place a plate underneath to catch the oil, which I was about to use later.

It was now the time for my favourite part, cracking eggs. I cracked them in a large mixing bowl and beat them with a fork. I poured it in the mixture of onion, potatoes, and boiled eggs and mixed them together with a large spoon. I then picked up the smaller non-stick frying pan and let it heat on medium heat. When it started stirring, I placed the mixture into the pan and spreader it evenly. I then revealed two more secrets.

“Mom! One, do not forget to add chopped red pepper. Adding it later has its own reward. It will make the omelette a little more spicy and delicious. Two, allow the egg to cook around the edges.” She smiled at my determination and only then I realised how much I was sweating. I was delighted and at the same time optimistic for my hard work to pay off.

I then carefully lifted it up to see if it was browned enough or not – it was. It was going as I had hoped. Inside of the mixture was not completely cooked and the egg was still runny. I revealed my fourth secret to her.

“Mom, after cooking one side for four minutes, make sure that the bottom is brown just as it is; realise that it is now the time to flip the side. Do it by placing a dinner plate over the frying pan and then flip it over but, not before warming it for thirty seconds.” I showed her as I said. I then shaped the sides of the omelette by spatula. After five minutes of cooking, I turned off the heat. I then revealed to her my fifth secret.

“Now that we have our omelette ready and cooked, do not get excited. Keep your calm and let it sit in the pan for two-minutes,” I quipped. She, by the time was impressed with my art of cooking, and patted my shoulder in appreciation.

When our princess arrived, breakfast was already waiting to go inside her ravenous mouth. Dad drove her beside me and I placed the napkin on her lap. I then picked up the butter-knife and fork, cut a slice from it and fed her.

“Mmm… This, I missed even more than you,” she gagged with a blink in her magnetic blue eyes.

“Obviously, a fat omelette is better than a fat boyfriend,” I simpered; she clenched her teeth with anger. I won this one. I can’t let her win each one without making an effort; it was against the rule. She ate her portion slowly and peacefully until she had her stomach full. I drove her to our room where she could rest while I held her hand.

In the afternoon, Ansh came. I needed him for the part I was writing. At first knowing that I was writing our story for her astounded him. Even with the pain in his heart, he told me everything I asked him, as honestly as he could. When he read the part I wrote, he said he would come back at night to hear my narration.

True to his words, he arrived just after dinner. Dad had already prepared the guest room for him to stay. After having coconut carrot soup made by me and mom, we three headed to our room where the words written in my diary were waiting to be told. After placing my girl on her bed, I sat beside her and Ansh sat on the chair.

And I started reading.

Ansh woke up and picked his phone to check the time. It was already seven. He stood up from his bed in a hurry. Gajju was still sleeping. He tried to wake him by shaking his body.

“Wake up, bro! Only half n’ hour left for the party. I don’t want to miss a moment there,” he said enthusiastically.

“You go Ansh! I don’t want to come. I’m having a severe headache and you know I can’t bear those loud speakers and DJs with this burning head of mine,” he answered with partly opened eyes.

His headache problem was really irritating Ansh and had been spoiling many moments like this ever since their childhood.

“Okay then, you go to sleep, I’ll bring some food for you here after the party,” he said and went inside the bathroom for a shower. Unlike most hostels, they had their personal attached bathrooms and lavatories for individual rooms – the only commendable thing about the boys’ hostel. Ansh took a shower, came out, and wore a white shirt and black coat with black shining trousers. Then he placed his feet into the shoes that he had polished specially for the fresher’s party. Dhruv didn’t move an inch all the while.

He then stepped down and took a walk to the examination hall where this party was being held. He was unstoppable; moving his legs swiftly and enthusiastically – there was nothing that could stop him – except the voice he heard.

“Excuse me, sir! Can you tell me where the examination hall is?” He heard a voice from behind. He turned around and saw a girl standing at the entrance of the girls’ hostel. He looked into her eyes. No makeup, no eyeliners or mascara. Yet, she was beautiful. He could never forget the moment he saw her for the first time; miraculous hazel eyes, a cute button nose, full lips and a mouth full of straight white teeth. She wore blue jeans and black T-shirt – not any usual party clothes from any manner but were suiting perfectly on her radiating white skin. Ansh was checking her out – she too noticed it and cleared her throat.

“First year?” He started the conversation as a good guy.

“Yes, sir!” She interpreted him as a senior.