Life Is What You Make It A Story Of Love, Hope And How Determination Can Overcome Even Destiny (6 page)

“He has said he wants to meet me for just a little while,” I answered, feeling weird, confused and not knowing what to do, all at the same time.

“Ah-ha! What has he written?”

“What do you think? He has also drawn a map giving directions to his home and says he will be waiting for me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Idiot, why do you think I called you?”

“Meet him,” she said giggling wickedly.

“Shut up. Stop making fun of me!”

“No, I actually meant it. The guy seems obsessed. He has written to you sincerely. I think you should at least meet him and explain.”

“I thought of it too. But I don't know Suvi, it seems absolutely wrong.”

“Gosh Anks! Stop pretending you're married to Vaibhav. And you are not in the Victorian era. How proper and idealistic can you be? Get a hold on yourself, girl. Sometimes you're such a people pleaser, no actually that should be Vaibhav-pleaser.”

“I am NOT,” I defended myself. But I knew she had a point. I did tend to be idealistic and most of the time my behaviour was governed by what Vaibhav would say, how he would react and what he would think.

“You don't have to say anything to Vaibhav. You're only meeting Abhi, not sleeping with him for God's sake. At least I presume you won't, the first time,” she teased.

“Shut up!” I smiled. “See you tomorrow at college.”

“Yeah, bye and don't forget to bring the letter,” she reminded me before hanging up.

I thought about what Suvi said. I owed Abhi an explanation. I had to make him understand how I felt about Vaibhav. I had to tell him that I did mean what I had told him earlier. At least that is what I convinced myself.

I looked at my watch quickly. Mum would not be back for at least half an hour. I dialled his number. He answered even before the first ring had ended. It looked as though he had been waiting for it.

“Hello, Abhi?” I asked hesitatingly.

“I knew you would call!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “When are you coming?”

“Did I tell you I would be coming?” I retorted, a little shocked at how well he seemed to have gauged me.

“Of course you will!” he answered with certainty. “Tell me when, what time?”

“Ummm, let me think about it. If you're really nice and plead with me I might consider it,” I smiled, enjoying prolonging his eagerness and anticipation.

“Oh, I can beg, I can play the violin, I can bring loudspeakers outside your house right now or flowers if you prefer.”

I was sure he was capable of it.

“No need for all that, I'll meet you on Saturday afternoon at 3?”

“Waiting, waiting, waiting” he said and then we said polite byes and hung up.

When Vaibhav called I did not mention a word about Abhi or agreeing to meet him even though it was topmost on my mind at that point of time. If guilt was a stone tied to my ankles, I would have sunk easily to the bottom of the sea. But I wore it easily on my sleeve, by pushing it aside and spoke to Vaibhav as though everything was normal.

When I reached college the next day, Suvi pounced on me, grabbed my bag, rummaged expertly through the contents and found the letter.

“You would make a good thief. You go through the contents of my bag so quickly and deftly,” I commented watching her.

“Only if all the bags had interesting love letters,” she retorted, as she began reading.

She too reacted exactly as I had when I had first read it and I waited, watching for the effect when she would turn the page and see the writing in blood. I had purposely not mentioned it over the phone. I wanted to see her reaction, in person. She did not disappoint.

“Holy Cow, Sweet Jesus, Holy Spirit and Mother Mary!” she exclaimed.

Then when she recovered I asked her if she thought Abhi was crazy or a bit unbalanced after reading the letter.

“He is not a lunatic or unbalanced, but he is so madly in love with you. You're blind not to be able to see it.”

I took a long time on Saturday morning deciding what to wear. I had already told my mother that I had a special office bearers meeting. It was really not a lie as I was meeting another office bearer, wasn't I? I chuckled at my own silly joke, but it was mostly to hide the nervousness I felt. I knew Abhi would notice what I wore. I didn't want it to seem like I had made a huge effort in dressing up to look pretty just for him. Yet, I wanted to look nice. Finally, after very long I ended up wearing a white shirt, jeans and casual brown sandals tying up my hair in a pony tail, taking care to make it seem as though no effort had gone into choosing the outfit or hairstyle or accessories.

Then (finally) when I was satisfied, I left for Abhi's house.

5

Life is what you make it

A
bhi's back was turned to me and he seemed to be watching cricket on television eagerly when I arrived. I had caught a glimpse of him through the window which had a curtain that was drawn back. I was nervous and excited and suddenly unsure of myself. What was I doing, turning up at his house just because he had asked me to? After all I hadn't even known him for long. How could I get carried away like this, just because he had written me a nice letter? For a moment I considered turning back and going home. I could always call him and say that something had turned up and I couldn't come, he would never know. But then I rang the bell.

Abhi jumped up almost immediately and switched off the TV. He saw me through the window and his face broke into a wide grin.

“Welcome, welcome,” he boomed as he opened the door and held out his hand.

“Hi,” I smiled as we shook hands, as though we were meeting formally for a business meeting. He led me to the drawing room which was tastefully done up and motioned to me to sit down. I sank into a plush coffee brown three seater sofa and he took a seat on the arm chair, beside me. The whole place had an understated elegance. The stream of light flowing in through the window made the atmosphere very cheerful. I forgot my initial hesitation and immediately felt at home.

“God, I was waiting and waiting. I was so scared you had changed your mind,” he said.

“I am on time. I had mentioned three, hadn't I?” I replied.

“Oh yes, but when you are waiting for something important, every minute seems an hour. I am so glad you came.”

I knew only too well, having waited the same way for Vaibhav's phone calls. But I said nothing and smiled.

An elderly looking gentleman emerged from another room, which I presumed was the kitchen. He was tall, with a mop of gray hair, looked distinguished and wore a white Kurta and a dhoti.

“
Appacha
, this is Ankita, my friend from college,” said Abhi, introducing me.

“And Ankita, this is my darling grandfather,” he said.

I immediately stood up, out of respect. Years of schooling in a system which drilled Indian values in you, like respect for the elderly, was hard to do away with.

“Hello Sir,” I said automatically.

“Hello young lady! And there is no need to stand! Do have a seat.” he greeted me, his eyes twinkling. He sounded warm and friendly. I could sense the camaraderie between Abhi and his grandpa almost instantly.

“A re you in the same college?” he asked

“Oh no, I am from St. Agnes.”

“Oh, so you're now hobnobbing with the enemy, eh Abhi?” he joked.

“Enemies only at cultural festivals. Friends beyond those,” Abhi smiled.

“Anyway, Mahaveers can never beat St. Agnes. That is for sure,” I boasted emboldened by his grandfather's friendliness.

“Ha ha ha. Oh yes, I have to agree with you there. Agnes girls are very smart indeed,” said Abhi's grandpa.

“We will wait and see. Youth fest is not yet over,” said Abhi, pretending to be offended, but I could see that he was feeling very pleased that his grandfather seemed to approve of me.

“I want to watch the cricket match. Why don't you both go upstairs?” said his grandfather as he switched on the television.

Abhi looked at me questioningly to ask if that was okay. I shrugged.

“Okay, let us go upstairs,” I said and followed Abhi as he led the way up.

Following him to his room is really not a good idea, my inner voice was beginning to tell me. But like before, I shut it up, acted nonchalant and followed him. I realised I was leaving a ‘safe zone’. The bedroom was positively dangerous territory. My inner voice was grumbling and shaking a disapproving finger at me now. But I was on a high. I was doing something that I had never done before. I was also curious to see what his room looked like. Besides, I had already agreed to come to his home and it was his grandfather who had suggested we go to his room, not him or me. How could I back out now?

“Wow!” I said as I entered. I couldn't help it. The room looked like it had been plucked right out of the pages of an interior design magazine and planted there. It was quintessentially male. There was a single bed, neatly made, with a masculine geometric striped, blue duvet, soft fluffy pillows with matching striped pillow cases and a chest of drawers beside it. There was a bookshelf on the wall with books neatly arranged. The chest of drawers had a framed photo of a very beautiful lady. There was a large comfortable leather arm chair which faced the bed at a forty five degree angle. There was a cosy rug and a reading lamp beside the bed. There was a basketball and a football in a little open wooden box in the corner. There was also a guitar neatly propped up against the wall. The windows had bamboo blinds. The moment you entered the room, a feeling of warmth enveloped you and you had to fight the urge to curl up on the cosy arm chair with a book.

“Your room is so neat!” I exclaimed.

“I like some kind of order and I try to keep it neat,” he said. He looked pleased.

“Me too! My room is also very tidy and I would love it if you could see it.” I said, feeling a bit surprised at myself. Why was I angling for his approval?

“Show me! I'd love to see it,” he grabbed the hint.

“No way! My parents would never agree to a guy coming home.”

“Oh Ankita! You can be such a kid! Your parents don't have to know about everything!” he winked.

I felt a blush creeping up my face and tried my best to hide it. “What are you suggesting Abhi?” I asked, looking at him straight in the eye.

“ To see your room of course!” He answered without missing a beat, looking right back, into my eyes without wavering. “Why? What did you have in mind?” His eyes twinkled.

I couldn't believe it. His voice had a very suggestive tone now. And to my horror, I found I liked it. I looked away, trying to hide my confusion.

“My room of course, I don't know what you had in mind though.” I answered smiling, as soon as I recovered from my confusion.

I sat in the arm chair and leaned back, drawing my feet under me, tucking them in and settling down comfortably.

“So tell me, won't you ever even consider showing me your room?” he asked as he perched on the bed and placed a pillow in his lap, leaning forward and resting his arms on the pillow.

“Let me think about it,” I smiled, enjoying this now. Abhi had dazzled me completely with his charm and audacity. I seemed to have forgotten about Vaibhav. My inner voice squeaked again trying to remind me to tell him about Vaibhav. But somehow at that moment, Vaibhav and everything to do with him seemed so far away. I was having such a good time that I didn't want anything to spoil it.

“A ren't you scared? Coming to a single guy's room like this?” He asked. He was teasing me now.

“Of course not. I spent almost half the night with you, on your bike, remember? Or have you forgotten already? ” I retorted.

“Ha Ha Ha,” he guffawed. “That I agree Ankita and thank you for trusting me. I did mean what I wrote in the letter you know. ”

“I must tell you that the blood bit freaked me out completely. Did you actually cut your hand? Which finger?” I asked curiously.

“See,” he said as he held up his hand. There was a cut on the ring finger. Then he clutched it with his middle finger and thumb, like a pen and demonstrated in the air. “It is the first time I am doing something so desperate, Ankita. I wanted you to believe me so badly. I don't go around expressing my love to every girl I meet. I wanted you to see how sincere I was and how desperate. Gosh, you have no idea how much I love you.” His eyes were shining with hope, love and sincerity. It was hard not to be swept away by him.

Looking at his face and listening to his words, I wanted to take his hand in mine and kiss his finger. I wanted to tell him that he was a great guy and I really enjoyed his company. I wanted to say that I felt honoured that he was doing all this for me. But no words came and I sat still, like a statue, not knowing what to say.

He mistook my silence for disapproval. “Look Ankita, I am really sorry to be so open. I swear I have wished a hundred times I could stop this madness of mine. But I am helpless.” He gestured waving his hands in the air. “God, morning, evening and night, day in and day out all I can think about is you. Do you even realise the significance of what I am saying?”

I could not keep quiet any longer. I got up and sat next to him on the bed. “Oh Abhi, I do.” I said. “I am not blind. I can see. But all this is so sudden for me. I think you're a great guy. I do enjoy your company. But...”

“Say no more,” he interrupted me. “There are no buts and no ifs in life. Life is what you make it, Ankita. I am willing to wait for you forever. That is how much I care.”

“Thanks Abhi.”

“For what?”

“For understanding. Now end of topic. Do you want to talk about anything else?”

There was a knock on the door before he could answer. It was a lady who seemed to be the maid holding a tray with two steaming mugs of tea, some fried onion
bhajis
and ginger biscuits.”

“Thank you Thresi
chechi
,” he said as she kept the tray on the chest of drawers, giggled and left the room. I suddenly realised that she must have giggled because Abhi and I were now sitting on the bed, side by side, our shoulders almost touching each other.

“She must have thought we were doing something else,” Abhi smiled, the mischief coming back to his voice again.