So, you ask the person for the thousandth time ‘when are you
That when you already know the date and time exactly.
Still , you ask. And count the days in hand. A little panic
rushes through the veins and legs jitter a bit. Subconsciously.
The other people can’t know of course. According
to them, you are the strong, level headed one. And you too keep up the charade
well. All those years on stage, thankfully.
So, as you listen to their itinerary , you sip at the water
, pretending to listen , nodding a bit
little stronger than required , but actually - you hear nothing . All your senses
are busy fighting against giving away your nervousness.
The second question that you ask yourself – ‘why am I nervous? This isn’t a farewell. At least not forever. We
will be in touch of course. We are going to meet again of course.
Soon enough May be.'
Suddenly you realize the other person is waiting for you to
respond. You manage a wide wordless smile. …
I had written this long back yet somehow I dint want to
publish it .
Not because it has anything explicit about them , but I just
did not want to make my need for them public.
Ankita mahendru and Mayuri bandopadhyay .
The more I think about them , the less I want to write .
Coz the very thought of being with them induces a state of euphoric
laziness that would prevent one from doing anything at all.
No, it doesn’t mean they are lazy.
It just means that when I am with them , I know things will
be taken care of.
I know , I will be taken care of.
But yes, they are lazy !
I remember , back in school days, I once found them just
sitting there and smacking mosquitoes in the dark .. without any light and
without any fan !
And oh .. they also once rang up arnab bhaiyaa who lived a
couple blocks away to switch on the fans as they did not want to get up from
the chairs !
And no, I am not exaggerating .
So , as I said , I need them in my life .
Someday I will tell you about them separately as …
Years later If we cross each other again In some seedy supermarket aisle, Will we just walk past ? Or be civil enough To stop and smile And find time To exchange pleasantries? Worse We see each other Yet keep reading the back of the cereal box. Dreading the questions And their answers Wondering if its too late, As we already know The relationship is way past its expiry date. Even worse We look yet don’t remember Name , work , face, place The unforgettable one Is now just a blurred laugh
Or even worse Stop Look Shuffle the grocery bag, Wishing ‘small talk’ came with a price tag. But then it dawns, The Price has already been paid. So, now, at the check-out counter, I don’t turn I act blind. Hurrying out I realize I have left the cash bill And Everything Else Behind.