Truly Madly Deeply (22 page)

“Tell you what, my boy! Try a song, a nice little song.”

For two minutes, Rahul just stood there, too surprised to move, contemplating over what the school Principal had just whispered in his ear. Then he moved to the music class on the third floor to find a guitar. In those moments, he decided that, if ever, he was going to sing a song for her, it would be his own, not borrowed from the films or any other artist whom she listened to and adored. He would no longer take anyone else's help to win over his love, he decided. He would no longer commit the same mistakes that had separated them, he promised himself.

Half an hour later, he was at the backstage with half the
people searching for him in the main auditorium as he was to
present the welcome bouquet to the Chief Guest and amongst those people was someone because of whom, he was waiting for in this line.

She had been specifically asked to find him and knowing the disciplinarian she was, how could she refuse a teacher's order? But then someone else was made to present the bouquet and the confusion slowly subsided. But Seema was unaware of all this and she continued her slow search for the familiar figure of Rahul.

‘I will just tell him that he is required in the auditorium if I see him and then I will walk away from there before he can think of humiliating me further,' Seema decided and started towards the exit of the auditorium.

She did not see the lights dim, she did not hear the host invite a surprise performer and she dismissed the enthusiastic clapping of hands that followed to be just another heralding for someone's opening speech. She was just about to move out of the auditorium to search the lower level, when the twang of a guitar made her stop in her tracks. What followed was a soul stirring build up to something that she would remember for years to come. The music stopped as she turned. Standing near the microphone – with an acoustic guitar in his hand – was Rahul, looking like a rock star with the confidence he exuded on stage but he was not on stage to rock anyone but one.

“This one's for a very special person present here. Call it an apology or a note of emotions, call it whatever you want but this comes from my heart and what comes from the heart should be accepted,” he said looking at the lady Chief guest in his husky voice and at the crowd before they started clapping again. He looked at her for a brief moment, a curt nod later; his fingers were working at the strings of the guitar with his eyes closed.

Some people were confused as to why would he be apologising to the Chief Guest, many attributed it to the reason that he was absent while welcoming her but only one knew what those words meant and she decided to stay back even as her mind contemplated turning away. She smiled to herself. He had taken care not to embarrass her and she slowly looked up as Rahul's fingers started again to a very touching tune.

“I know what I did was wrong,

And to correct that, I wrote this song.”

He repeated. The audience cheered.

“Yesterday's gone, Tomorrow may never come,

Today's the time, we can chew bubble gum.

The soft wind that blows your brown hair,

The divine hands that made you so fair,

I wish I could say more

but all I can do is, stand and stare.

The shared rocks of the sea, the inhaled perfume of the grass,

They call out to us and ask, ‘What's the fuss?'

I held to your thoughts in your absence,

The words and promises that seemed nonsense.

Everytime I see you, I feel like it has been so long,

And to correct that, I wrote this song.”

He stopped before strumming his guitar with a new found ferocity. His voice reached a matching crescendo in synch with his fingers.

“Ohhhhh…what have I to do with this ego?

Without you, where can I …go?

The lamp is out, the streets full of darkness,

If only you would, you could forgive my madness.

You are my burning light, you are my twinkling star,

Ohh, you make me feel like a superstar

A day with you makes me stand out,

And I know you wish I'd shut my mouth.”

Seema involuntarily laughed on that and the students around her looked at her warily.

“..But I will sing this right, whether this is wrong,

To correct this, there will be no other song

Just like when I am gone from here,

There would be no one you would have to bear.

Bear me now, and hear this song…

I know what I did was wrong,

And to correct that, I wrote this song… I know…”

Mid-way Rahul opened his apologetic eyes and spotted her listening to him grimly, her eyes closed and her hands folded below her chest. He continued, softening his voice,

“Oh, I tried; I tried not to love you,

I tried... tried it a thousand times

But which fool has control?

Has control... over the clock's chimes.

My stupid heart is besotted,

Taken... taken by your beauty

But how can I blame it?

For that's... that's its duty.

Surrounded by sadness,

It has never loved before.

Drowned in the sea of madness,

It pleads you to forgive, therefore.”

Rahul strummed the guitar softly.

“Oh, it knows...

“It very well does,” Rahul added in a soft murmur.

“...what it did was wrong,

But you still make it beat as wild as King-Kong.

And to slow it down there will be no other song,

I know... I know what I did was wrong...”

Rahul ended his voice trailing, his fingers still strumming the strings of the old acoustic and as he struck the last chord, he looked up straight at the auditorium door where she stood. Their gazes met, and even though Rahul did not say anything, Seema saw him mouth a silent apology.

Rahul let his eyes settle on the first row, where the Chief Guest was seated and saw the staff members clapping the hardest, their faces clearly in awe. He saw Father Tuscano winking at him and then quickly looking around to check whether anyone noticed, before winking at him again.

When Rahul came down, the Chief Guest personally went upto him to inform him that she had taken no offence at his late arrival but Rahul's mind was elsewhere. He sweetly talked his way out from the lady's words, only to bump into some senior staff members who applauded him for his voice. Finding his way
out, he was enveloped by the crowd, many of which were
girls from junior classes appreciating his guitar playing skills
and requesting him for private lessons. He managed to come out of the gathering and made his way to the exit door where he had seen her standing.

He thought it was the right time to render a private apology, too; but there was no one to apologise to, so he just wandered down, still searching for her familiar sight.

Apologising from the heart turns out to be tiring, he concluded.
He went to the canteen on the ground floor and had a long
snack to quieten his grumbling stomach. He did not find her. When the loud music coming from the direction of the
auditorium seemed to have stopped, Rahul decided that all
the performances were over and it would be good to go up
now to check on the program. He came back to the auditorium
only to find the lights dimmed and people wearing long
masks over their eyes. He thought he was watching a mass gathering of Zorros.

“So if you have chosen your dancing partner, we can start with the ballroom dance. This is going to be fun everyone. Time to swirl around!” the host announced and Rahul realised that he was actually standing in the middle of the dance floor. It did not look the same as it was sometime back.

The revolving disco lights were put on which were used ever so sparingly in the auditorium. Rahul found it difficult to believe that some moments ago this place was a school gathering.

“What's this about?” he asked a passing guy, who had his hands on the waist of a masked girl.

“Christmas celebrations,” the guy shouted over the music. Rahul found it amusing as to how he did not know about this program in their schedule. No one at school had informed him about it and neither had he seen it on the actual list! Perhaps, the Principal decided to sneak this in, he concluded. He turned to go backstage to ask the host the source of this decision and bumped into a figure in a dark green velvet evening gown, wearing a mask, glowing in the darkness. The eyes held him to his place, daring him to move his gaze. The air around him seemed suddenly more pleasurable.

He extended his hand almost involuntarily and she placed hers into his. He lessened the distance between their bodies by
swiftly pulling her towards him, one hand on her hip while the other embedded in hers. She just about reached over his shoulder. Their gazes still locked all this while, they moved around gracefully. He turned her around and they caught each other's eyes again.

The number changed – Suraj hua maddham chand jalne laga, aasma yeh hai kyun pigalne laga (The sun has dimmed, the moon is on fire, why is the sky melting with desire), the lines said. It was her favourite track, he remembered her saying that while she was seated with him in the bus on their very first trip together and to add to it, Shahrukh Khan and Kajol – on whom this song was filmed – were her favourite stars.

As if to celebrate the timing of the song, he held both her hands in his as they went far and pulled her so near that their noses rubbed and bodies merged. Her fragrance blew him off and his body followed steps he never knew in his life. He held her hands, pressed in his as he half hugged her from the back, the way he remembered the actor doing it to his beloved. He heard her gasp over the music. She turned, still holding his hands and he noticed her gleaming smile even in the darkness.

Threading his fingers through her bouncy hair, he put the sole strand of hair that hung out from her perfectly set tresses on her forehead. With a snap of his wrist, he spun her away from him and pulled her back again, letting his fingers grasp her smooth back. He turned her around, and enveloped her in his arms, moving gracefully sideways allowing her to take his place and she repeated the step the other way round. He lifted her gently off the floor towards his left, in tandem with the slow beats and placed her to his right. He held her hands together in his and their legs worked together on the music.

Just as the track was going to end, he laid his cheek against the crown of her head and whispered, “I am sorry.”

He straightened and she looked into his eyes and nodded. He felt all the tensions in his head evaporate; her single nod meant so much to him that he felt like jiving on this soft dance track. She dropped his hand to place hers on her chest and coughed twice.

“Are you all right?” he held her by the shoulder and stooped down to her bent gaze.

She nodded.

“You sure?” he asked again.

She nodded, looking into his eyes.

He took her hand and made her revolve around him. He held her close and wished that time would freeze. He smelled the welcome fragrance of her tresses. It brought him boundless delectation and refreshed his aching soul. The torture of wanting was so great
that he could hardly stand it. He longed to feel her breath against his neck and taste the texture of her skin. He paused to tame his rapid breathing and she nuzzled her head in the hollow of his collarbone. He thanked her for being what she was, promising not to repeat any of his follies ever. There were no explanations given and none taken.

As the lights were about to come on, she hoisted her frame on her toes, cupped his face in her palms and gently kissed him on the cheek, near his earlobe.

“Thanks,” she murmured in his ear, savouring their heat.

“For what?” he asked bewildered, rubbing the epicentre of the earthquake in his body.

“For the song,” she said before walking off, softly leaving his hand. He sensed the same hesitancy he had experienced once.

***

THE SEDUCTRESS

Rahul's roommates as usual were out with their girlfriends and Rahul did not expect them to come back soon. He had overheard their plans to go to Fort Mifflin and then visit the Independence Hall after spending sometime at Burholme Park near Pennypack. It would be a bit out of the way but both had a bike, so the distance would not be much of a problem. There they were roaming and enjoying and here he was lying on the bed listening to the radio. His passive self was soon alerted by loud knocks on the door. He sighed and put on a vest over his naked upper body and tied the chord of his pyjamas, before almost pulling out the door.

“Hi, what's up buddy?” Sahil greeted.

“Hi,” he nodded back.

Sahil stepped inside the room, plopping himself comfortably on Rahul's bed, trying to extract some bounce of it. He picked up a previous copy of The Philadelphia Inquirer lying on the table and browsed through it.

“The President does this, the President does that. Horny tiger is sleeping with multiple lionesses in the woods and the lionesses are fucking a dumb zebra in the grasslands. Who cares what the President does and who gives a fuck about who fucks whom? Don't tell me you actually read this bullshit,” Sahil said keeping the
paper down.