Truly Madly Deeply (29 page)

“You dare not speak about her, you rascal. Go fuck your mother, you roadside worm,” Rahul roared.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Raashid shouted at his gang, who were too stunned to react seeing their leader being knocked up this way.

The shortest boy amongst them advanced first and raised a fist to hit Rahul across the face. Rahul dropped his hold on
Raashid's neck and caught hold of the relative dwarf. He neatly
lifted him an inch above the ground and slammed him on the pavement itself.

The others who were rushing towards him, stopped midway to regroup. They pounced upon Rahul together. Raashid also joined in not bothering to nurse his injuries.

The belt was back in action and Rahul almost cried in pain as the steel made contact with his ribs. Punches and kicks burst his head, rendering him incapable of fighting back.

“Hey you… wait there... catch them,” someone shouted running their way. Rahul saw Raj running towards him with a couple of men. Raashid and his goons ran off sensing trouble.

Raj helped Rahul to stand and took him home with the help of the two men.

At home, Rahul had to bear the brunt of his father's ire who did not take to Rahul's condition as one of sympathy.

“Now, all that was left was this! Falling interest in studies, passing time with friends and now, fighting with goons. You have become one yourself,” his father reprimanded and imposed a house ban on him for five days.

He would then call up Raj and enquire about Seema. He would ask her which dress she wore that day and whether her eyes searched for him at his usual spot. Raj would not understand the purpose of such questions and would usually reply that he was not much good at noticing all that but he would tell him all the things that Seema would talk in class, mostly the answers she gave to the Sir's never ending queries. Raj would pay utmost attention to Seema's behaviour than his own and would often be scolded by the Sir for not paying attention to what was being taught. In those five days, he lived his life through Raj's eyes.

A week later after his home imprisonment term was served; Rahul was back to where he thought he belonged. He saw Seema's changed expression when she saw him return near her classes. He sensed disappointment, but then he had not expected anything else.

He dropped the plans of a vacation with his family. They were visiting the holy shrine at Ajmer; his entire family was going but he refused citing nonsensical reasons. He could not stay so far
from Seema for even a day; a week was a pretty long time
amounting to a life. His mother was very angry with him as she
had always wanted to visit Ajmer and that was the perfect
opportunity as even his usually busy father was ready to take leave from work as the work load was much less than normal. A part of Rahul wanted to go, to escape from it all and maybe even seek
divine intervention; but knowing Seema, he did not like interventions anymore and he decided to stay back hoping for some inwardly miracle.

The day was spent thinking about her, evening was spent waiting for her and the night was spent dreaming about her without submitting to sleep.

And thus the vacations continued in pretty much the
same routine.

***

Somewhere towards the end of the vacations, the state board declared the SSC exam results earlier than expected. In a country like India things happening earlier than expected is normally a welcome change, but the announcement of the state results which could have made his dream come true, did not sound any bell in Rahul's heart. His father had taken a leave from work and his mother ensured that she would appease all Gods only if her son secured it in the state merit list.

As soon as the announcement was made, Rahul's home was bombarded with calls from eager relatives who would either compare their children's scores with him or set a competent benchmark for them to follow later or worse still, if they were elder to him then curse them for not obtaining a good score like him. Expectations were running high and so were the anxieties in everyone's blood but Rahul remained pretty much indifferent to it all.

Rahul's father logged on the board's website to check his results. It took a long time for the slow server to display his results. When it finally did, Rahul's father staggered back in his chair. He did not check the individual marks in each subject; he straight away jumped to the overall percentage column.

“Eighty-two-point-five,” he announced dismissively.

“Whose is that?” his mother asked over his father's shoulder.

“Our intelligent son's! Who else can slip from the mid-nineties into the early eighties and that too when it matters the most?” his father questioned back, gloom written all over his face.

“What am I to tell my sisters? My younger sister's husband's niece got eighty-nine-point-seven-seven and he is not even close. There has to be a goof up, please check it again,” his mother wailed banging her fists on the keyboard.

“It won't change,” his father tried to reason it out but at last, on his mother's insistence, he reloaded the site and punched in Rahul's exam seat number again. Soon the result displayed itself again on the screen.

“Eighty-two-point-five!” his father pointed it out to his mother, his poking finger forming dissipating circles on the display.

“Do you want to file for re-evaluation?” his father asked.

Rahul shook his head slowly.

Rahul did not remember the last time he had seen his mother cry. He faintly recollected a time during his childhood when his
parents had got into a nasty verbal fight and his father had hit his mother hard across the cheeks. He had seen his mother shed a few tears then and disappear off to his maternal grandmother's place
for a week. But that day, her mother had burst into tears spontaneously. His father did not console her as he was also
shocked and since the results were official, Rahul did not know what to do. His mind was too numb to react. He quietly got up and went to his room. No one called him for lunch. Everything had come to a standstill.

That afternoon the exam mark sheets were going to be handed out in school. Rahul hoped against hope that at least he would have secured his rank in school.

The numbness in his heart multiplied threefold when he saw the huge blackboard that was used to put up chalk written notices,
kept in the school compound to inform the local public about the school rankers.

His name was there but on the third place. Perhaps, he had not even been expecting that.

The second place displayed the name of Tarannum Haque, an unexpected entrant right below his rightful rank.

Strange is human nature, instead of celebrating success, it tends to feel overshadowed by other's success but the success he was eyeing now had come at his expense. Right on the top, written in an elegant style and the name which would remain etched on the memorable topper's list that decorated the entrance of the school, was Jay Deshpande. He saw the culprit standing ten feet away from him, hounded by smiling faces and thumping fists, posing for pictures as one of his cronies clicked the camera repeatedly lest he missed even a moment of the prized expression on Jay's face.

Rahul did not see the faces of the hands that met his. He felt a different kind of hollowness in his heart than the one which he was accustomed to. Even the teachers were happy about Jay topping the charts. Looking back, it all seemed a distant past when he would be hounded by congratulatory glances, his back bearing the brunt of heavy pats and his ears tired of hearing his own praises. It all seemed a long time ago.

He met Sapna near the school gate. He then remembered that the tenth grade usually started earlier than the other grades in school as they had a huge syllabus to cover.

“Congrats, Rahul,” Sapna wished.

He shook her hands but did not know what to say.

“Which stream are you choosing?” Sapna asked.

“Science,” Rahul muttered softly, biting his trembling lip.

“Which colleges have you applied for?” she continued.

“Well, the colleges I wished to apply for won't fall in my range anymore and the ones which would, have not yet released their application forms,” Rahul answered looking away.

“Hey, are you disappointed?” she asked, placing a palm on
his shoulder.

He shook his head.

“Tough luck ... but, c'mon, of the hundred students that gave the exam from our school, you came third. It's a matter of great pride,” she tried to cheer him.

But when nothing in your life happens in a positive frame, it is difficult to think positively and hope for the best. Was the best still to come? He doubted that.

A dejected Rahul was congratulated by Jess too but Seema never came to do the same even as three days passed after the results. It was strange even after suffering from fate, a person in love would choose the same fate over his life.

A helpless and heartbroken Rahul had to ask one last favour from his favourite teacher, though he despised it. Dorothy ma'am was unrelenting. She gave him a verbal lashing and he bore it silently. He knew she had expected him to be the school topper but then she softened up on seeing his condition and motivated him to work harder in the future.

Rahul begged her to arrange a meeting with Seema. She did not commit to him but asked him to visit the school the next day. Rahul as usual came before time. Dorothy ma'am was scheduled to take a lecture in Seema's class which was now the tenth grade, but she postponed it by a few minutes.

Seema was called on the third floor deserted corridor for ten minutes and was asked to congratulate Rahul in front of Dorothy ma'am. What seemed a childish scenario, had made Rahul really happy. The false joy on Seema's face had made his heart compose lines,

“Love me, even if it's a lie

Leave me but never say goodbye.”

Dorothy ma'am went away after Seema did. She wished him good luck for obtaining admission in a prime college. He realised then that was the last time he would be inside his school, the place where he had found it all and lost it too.

Those moments spent with her brought all the earlier times in front of his eye. Since the past two years, it had been Seema all the way and nothing else for him. Even when he was angry with her, she had ruled his mind as he contemplated ways to hurt her pride and even when he was so involved with her, he had thought of ways to please her and show her how much he loved her. It had been her and only her in all the matters related to him.

In her love and in his madness, he had forgotten everything. From a good student he had turned into something much lower than he thought he would become. His falling grades and fights with roadside loafers were ample proof of that.

After those ten minutes, he realised what she really meant to him. Was her congratulating him so important as to not even consider the other hundreds of people who had already shaken his hand? And to forget those at home who had prayed for his success fervently and already wished him in the morning, long before the results were declared because they were that confident about him? Though they were dejected on seeing his performance, perhaps more than he was, their prayers had shown hope in him and their eyes had trusted in his abilities. Didn't he care for his mother, who fasted for his success and made a minnat stating that if he gets the usual ninety-percent, she would do this and that? He knew he was doing wrong but he was weak, too weak to stop himself from falling in love.

From an outstanding student, he had become a roadside Romeo. His conscience lost its voice though he knew the answers deep down somewhere and suddenly, it dawned upon him that he had lost his dream to top the board exams. He had lost his prime position, he had lost the respect he had earned over the years, and he had lost his rightful place – all because of his foolishness, all because of his laziness and all because of a GIRL!

***

Whom could he have recounted his follies? There was no one who would understand him, not here, not anywhere. Who could have understood his love when he, himself had failed to do so? Raj? Asif? No, they were yet to experience life through the eyes of love. Who would have listened to his tales of woe when his love was the flickering lamp over his own decaying tomb? No one. The unfazed memory still called out to his present due to which Rahul did not notice when he stepped off the pavement and onto the road. He did not see the speeding minivan hurtling towards him, nor did he hear its frantic horn but he did realise the failed attempts of the driver to brake just before the vehicle bumped into him and threw him ten yards away.

***

FROM FIRST LOVE TO LAST OBSESSION

Two figures rushed towards the end of a corridor; one, a tall frantic boy and the other, an equally worried lady. Oblivious to the nauseous smell that seemed to be coming off the walls, the boy was also not aware of the ruckus he was creating. He finally bumped into someone with a loose white coat, twisting the long stethoscope dangling from his neck with his fingers.

“How's he now?” Sahil asked the doctor, almost pushing him back. He had arrived with his mother, a woman as tall as him with a little mole on her chin, to check on Rahul who was lying unconscious at the city hospital.

“Doc, how's the boy?” Sahil's mother followed eyeing
the physician.