Upon awakening, my initial instinct was to reach for my phone, hopeful for a message from her. Amidst the plethora of notifications from friends, hers remained elusive. It was already 10 a.m., and with a tinge of irritation, I set my phone aside, opting for a brief nap, only to be interrupted 45 minutes later.
By 11 a.m., I had completed my morning routine and headed to Irani Cafe for breakfast. Despite hearing countless tales from college friends about their frequent visits, this marked my first experience at the renowned establishment. The coffee met expectations, but the Bun-Muska surpassed brilliance. Prateek, a mutual friend of Manish and me, had been a regular at the cafe. Joining us was Bhushan, who had just arrived from his hometown, Amravati, earlier that morning. Coincidentally, Amravati was where I had completed my graduation. Abhishek, too, accompanied our group.
Laughter overcame me as I observed Bhushan delicately dissecting his omelette with a fork and knife, embodying the demeanour of a refined gentleman. It struck me how he had transformed from the quintessential Amravatikar into a sophisticated, affluent young man, exuding elegance in every gesture.
Upon our return to the flat, I retreated to the backside bedroom, engaged in the dual pursuit of charging my phone and eagerly anticipating her message. My attention, however, was divided, as I found myself immersed in scenes from the movie "Meet Joe Black."
"Manish mentioned you penned something he absolutely loved," Bhushan inquired, stepping into the back room with a palpable curiosity.
Sporting a mysterious smile, I responded calmly, "It's about my dinner..." Though the word 'date' lingered on my lips, I refrained, deeming it just a casual dinner. "Well, dinner with a girl..."
"Oh, so there is a girl." Bhushan's curiosity peaked. "Show me her picture." Eager to unravel the identity of the subject of my writing, he was genuinely intrigued.
I obliged, revealing her images from my mobile gallery, having surreptitiously captured her beauty through screenshots. Bhushan, upon glimpsing her photo, broke into a bright smile. "She is so pretty, bhai."
"I know, right?" Joyful bubbles popped in my heart.
"Share the write-up with me right away; I want to read it," he exclaimed with excitement. Uncertain about sharing, I hesitated momentarily. However, sensing his genuine affection and support, a touch of tenderness compelled me to let him experience it and witness his reaction.
Seated comfortably in the room, leaning against the stark wall, Bhushan devoted his full attention to the mobile phone, engrossed in reading the write-up.
After some time, he remarked, "I've completed a portion, and I must tell you, I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Your writing is captivating, Parth. I could vividly picture the story and even draw parallels to my own life."
His positive response brought a delightful smile to my face. "Your kind words mean a lot. I'm genuinely grateful."
"Don't dismiss it as false flattery. I genuinely mean it; I'm truly captivated by your writing. Now, let me continue reading," he said, refocusing his attention on the mobile screen to delve further into the write-up.
Observing him, I couldn't help but feel amused. I cherished the presence of this newfound friend with his supportive, good-hearted, and kind disposition.
Returning to the YouTube videos that served as my distraction while awaiting her text, I couldn't help but notice the sluggish pace of the ticking clock. It seemed to drag on, a stark contrast to the time spent with her when it seemingly flew by.
The scenes from Meet Joe Black had cast a different spell on my mood. My heart wandered, contemplating whether I could share similar moments with her, imagining her as a counterpart to Susan. However, a more pressing question lingered – what if she was nothing like my perceptions? What if it was just a fleeting joy, a temporary happiness? Should I allow myself to be swept away by it? The nagging thought of past disappointments loomed large, discouraging any hope for happiness.
By 1:30 p.m., she still hadn't called. I resisted the urge to reach out again; I desired someone who reciprocated the same enthusiasm to connect. My pride shielded me from succumbing to the strong internal temptation. I couldn't afford to fall weak.
Bhushan's voice interrupted my contemplations. "You writers have a way of making even the ordinary beautiful." His words pulled me from my thoughts. He was overwhelmed by the writing, praising the dreamy depiction of events. Despite not being a love story, the narrative brimmed with romantic nuances.
A smile of satisfaction crossed my face. The unique joy of evoking myriad emotions with my words was an intrinsic reward for any writer. Bhushan expressed his wish for me to meet her, his eyes revealing genuine concern beneath the surface.
"I don't know," I confessed after a pause. "She was supposed to call by now, but it seems she has forgotten or found something more important." My frustration welled up, and I felt foolish.
Bhushan, surprised, exclaimed, "But how could that be? Your write-up went so well between you two." He was genuinely confused by this unexpected turn.
Unwilling to disclose the depth of my disappointment, I replied, "I just don't understand girls. What do they really want?" Bhushan, still annoyed, wished earnestly for me to see her that day and left me to process my emotions alone.
Attempting to sleep off the distress proved futile. Instead, my heart became a canvas for melancholic thoughts, absorbing the gloomy vibes of the moment.
"Tell me, if I choose this path, am I making a mistake?" This was the query I once posed to her. At that moment, as our conversations unfolded, I sensed my growing interest in her and grappled with the fear that pursuing this connection might lead to heartbreak. A conflicting part of me argued that encountering heartbreak from such a captivating girl might be worthwhile—an ordeal that would bring pain but also growth. I reasoned that adversity refines the heart, sharpens creativity, and is essential for great writers who thrive on suffering.
Yet, amidst these apprehensions, a fervent desire to fall in love again burned within me. I yearned to experience happiness, care for someone, and embrace the insecurities of love. The human instinct to be loved and to love someone passionately was a powerful force beneath the surface.
In our teenage years, we often dream of finding true happiness in love as we grow older. Such aspirations are not misguided; everyone craves a connection with someone special. However, it seems that in contemporary times, the youth is hesitant to open their hearts again. Past heartbreaks, haunting memories, and lingering suffering from failed experiences constrain them from embracing future possibilities.
Suddenly, the familiar ping of a WhatsApp text alert interrupted my contemplations. It was her – finally. The clock read 4:07 p.m.
I responded to her text with a curt, "Seems like you have other engagements." The frustration and anger simmered beneath my words, a sentiment I wished someone could perceive.
Her reply came, "Yes, had to do laundry, flat cleaning, and some 'Me' time." What about my time? I was irked, having waited for her... never mind. Engaging in a confrontation with her seemed futile; I knew the trajectory – it invariably led to insults. Besides, I had grown weary of such dramatic episodes in my life.
"Well, I'm leaving tomorrow morning for Panvel."
"Ohh... okay! Sorry. Couldn't meet today," she apologized.
Her response infuriated me to the point that I impulsively threw my phone onto the bed. The urge to hurl it against the wall crossed my mind, but practicality restrained me – I knew I still needed that damn phone. As I pondered, I questioned whether I truly needed this person for whom I yearned so desperately.
A wave of annoyance and contempt surged through my bones. I felt a deep sense of shame, recalling how I had hurried everyone to finish their baths, anticipating her message. The absurdity of pulling people out of the bathroom just to prioritize her over everything left me feeling regretful and disheartened.
I spent another two hours in solitude in that room. When Manish arrived at the flat around 6:30, my downcast expression didn't go unnoticed. He sensed that something had gone awry but chose not to address it in front of others.
"Let's go outside," Manish suggested.
"Yeah, please. I'm so hungry," I replied with a feeble voice.
"Must be tired of hurting yourself with excruciating thoughts," Manish remarked, highlighting the evident toll it had taken on me.
Silently, we headed to a food stall to grab some snacks, and that's when I disclosed that she hadn't met me that day. Manish, too, was taken aback, wondering how she could neglect the fact that I had stayed in Pune for her.
As we rode on his bike to pick up liquor and then food, he took me to his favorite liquor store in Pune, passionately detailing the varieties available. My muted response was a mix of sadness and frustration, feeling like my time had been squandered. Two days in Pune for someone who seemed indifferent – time that could have been spent productively on my book.
Upon our return to the flat, Manish stopped at a hotel to collect dinner after securing his drinks.
"I'm so disappointed," I admitted with deep regret etched on my face.
"God damn it," Manish responded, visibly annoyed. "Come along with me; there are plenty of chicks here. I'll take you to them."
"Do you think they aren't enough in Mumbai? What you see in Koregaon is what I encounter every time I go to the office. Do you think there aren't pretty faces?"
"Oh, well, can't argue with that," Manish conceded.
"I'm disappointed that I let my dejection get broken by a false hope of happiness," I confessed with utter regret.
"Come on, you're only going so hard on yourself. It's fine that you liked her," Manish tried to reason.
"You know what's the worst part of this, Manish? Now reality would make me more dejected than before. I won't even put the slightest effort to get connected to anyone because eventually, it ends with a damn disappointment."
Manish appeared gloomy, his hopes dashed after reading the write-up.
"I should have listened to Aarna. Damn it," I nearly yelled at the hotel.
"Now who is this Aarna?" wondered Manish.
"Aarna Singh. She's a friend from college. A terrible pain in my ass but a good and caring friend. She had warned me about falling for anyone without knowing them properly."
Manish's expression suggested a tacit agreement with Aarna's perspective.
The guilt of not sharing anything with her weighed on me. I typically confided in her about my activities, but this time, I shrugged it off. The burden on my heart was already heavy, and I didn't want to add another layer. At worst, she would scold me, and I'd have to accept it quietly.
"You know what, Manish, sometimes I feel Mithila was right. That nobody shall be there in my life. Nobody would tolerate me the way she did. Those words of Mithila always haunt me and make me feel that I can't be loved. The only time I had the blessing of love was when she was with me. I just..."
"Shut up, man," Manish snapped. "You were a different person then. Whatever she said to you was based on your past version, not the one you are now. You have changed tremendously. What does she know about it? Yet, you are allowing her words to bring you down?"
I looked down, weakened.
"Come on, man, she is in the past. Keep her there. Do you know how happy I was to see you taking an interest in this new girl? For three years, you didn't allow anyone to come close to you, despite living among many girls. Now, after all this time, when I saw you happy because of this girl, even I had some hope for you to be happy – not that sad and cold, dejected person you've been since Mithila left you. Sadness is a death that you have chosen for yourself."
"My sadness is the reason why I can write some creative..."
"Fuck that shit, man. I just saw you happy after ages," Manish expressed his frustration.
I merely looked at him, and the anger in his eyes subdued me. He was upset because he had witnessed my destruction at the hands of my former lover. He had been there when it all happened, unfolding before his eyes.
"Now, let's get back to the flat. I'll have my drink, and then we'll have our dinner," he commanded. I nodded in agreement.
"And tell me one thing, do you really like this new girl?" he asked firmly.
I nodded innocently with misty eyes.
"Very well then, I'll take care of it," he declared, and we picked up our food parcel and returned to the flat.
I felt a deep sadness and thought about all the people who just wanted to see me happy. The words of Sanika Ma'am echoed in my mind, "Happiness is a choice, Parth. Choose to be happy, no matter what has happened in your past."
Back at the flat, Manish and Prateek opened their bottles to have their drinks, while I focused on eating snacks. The hunger was intense, and it was nearly 9:45 p.m.
"Our brother seems to be upset about something. What happened to you, Bhau?" Prateek inquired.
I hesitated, unsure of what to reveal. Should I admit that I'm not as fortunate as him, who gets to spend time with his favorite person?
Manish told him. "She didn't see him today," already halfway through his drink.
"What?" Prateek was surprised, taking a long sip from his bottle. "Don't worry, Bhau. You would... you know what, Manya, take him to her."
Now, I was taken aback.
"Only that would cheer him up. Judging by his disposition, I don't think another beautiful face would be able to alleviate his suffering," Prateek added.
Manish finished his glass and snacked on some snacks. The effects of the liquor were starting to show. "That's my plan."
I looked at Manish in amazement. "What's your plan?"
"I wasn't gonna tell you about this. My plan was to take you for a ride after our dinner, and..."
"Just tell me what's your plan?" I interrupted, having lost my patience.
"To take you to her," Prateek completed.
Manish smiled and took a long sip from his glass. I remained still, not moving a muscle for a few seconds, staring at Manish with extreme amazement.
"Now?" I almost screamed. "It's 10 at night. We still have to have our dinner."
"Our drinks will be done in the next 15 minutes, the next 20 for dinner, and 10 after that, we'll be on the bike," Manish explained.
I continued to gaze at him, stunned.
"Don't worry; she won't be asleep until the time we reach her flat," Manish reassured with confidence.
I continued to gaze at him, still bewildered. "Don't you think standing outside her residence at midnight might make her think I'm some stalking creep?"
"No. She would find it romantic that you traveled all this way just to see her before you leave for Mumbai tomorrow," Manish explained.
Once again, I found myself wondering why I had such a wonderful friend in my life. Did I even deserve his extreme love and support?
"I love you," I said genuinely, conveying my feelings in a platonic, brotherly way. Manish has always been a protector, and my love for him runs deep.
"I love you too," he responded, and we shared a hearty laugh.
"Finally, there's a smile on his face," Prateek remarked with delight.
The door opened, revealing Bhushan in a hurry, ready to join the gathering. An Old Monk's bottle awaited him. As they chatted, I began to have my dinner, already feeling hungry.
"You better not drink too much," I cautioned Manish.
"Why?" he wondered.
"Because you have to drive me to the other part of the city. Can you even drive if you..." I didn't finish my sentence before he interrupted.
"Arre... somebody please tell him who he is talking to. Prateek, tell him about my capacity," Manish said, looking insulted.
"He can drive," Bhushan assured.
"Have you not been in the backseat when I got drunk? Forgotten the time in Amravati?" Manish challenged.
I looked at him for a moment and finally gave in, "Fine."
"Tension kaiko leta tu? Me hu na!" Manish assured me, expressing his confidence. His attitude towards me always touched my heart, and I wished I could hug him right then, but the liquor bottles blocked my way.
"I am confused. What are you guys talking about?" Bhushan inquired.
"Manish is taking our writer friend to the girl who has stirred his heart," Prateek explained, not as influenced by the liquor.
Bhushan's eyes widened, and a broad smile adorned his face. He was thrilled with the proposition. Suddenly, his expression changed, and he fixed me with a serious look.
"You better see her tonight; otherwise, I'll kick your ass if you come without seeing her," Bhushan warned.
"Don't take him into the flat," Prateek suggested, followed by laughter from everyone. Overwhelmed, I soaked in their love and care for me.
Then, I turned to Bhushan, commanding him to finish the full glass in one stroke if he genuinely loved my write-up. He looked at me with innocent eyes, akin to a child asked to do something through emotional blackmail. Without hesitation, he grabbed the glass and downed its contents.
"Let's go," I said to Manish, and he nodded.
"But first, let me have my dinner. I'm hungry," Manish declared in a dull tone.
"Oh!" Suddenly, my overexcitement was brought back down to reality. There was still some time before seeing her, and impatience crept in.
Around 11 p.m., we left the flat. I stood at the door, and then Bhushan called me.
"Bhai, good luck. Jit ke aana."
I smiled with delight and nodded affirmatively. Manish ignited the engine, and the bike roared to life. I climbed onto the back seat, and we set off, leaving the neighborhood behind.
He rode the bike for 2 kilometers before coming to a halt at a petrol pump. The time was 11:15 p.m., and a sense of concern lingered as I wondered if we would make it to her flat on time. As the petrol flowed into the tank, Manish turned to me and inquired, "Now, show me the location where she lives."
I presented my mobile screen to him, and he scrutinized it for a brief moment. "This locality?" he scoffed. "Just sit back and turn off that damn GPS. I'll take you there without its help."
"Really?" I responded skeptically, unsure if he could navigate without assistance.
"I know that locality," Manish reassured me. "Your brother roams around a lot in Pune. Don't worry, just relax. We're meeting her tonight."
His confidence filled me with renewed enthusiasm. Hastily taking my place behind him, I eagerly anticipated the journey ahead towards her flat.
The night enveloped us in its cold and tranquil embrace as we navigated the sparsely populated city roads, illuminated by scattered streetlights. As we made our way to her, I found myself at a loss for conversation topics, but it hardly mattered; just being in her presence had a way of erasing all thoughts.
Along our route, a Ganpati Stall beckoned us, and it was evident that people were enthusiastically rekindling their celebrations after two years of being deprived by the grip of Covid-19.
"Lord Ganesha, bless us tonight," Manish uttered as we passed by the stall.
"I'm an atheist, you know," I reminded him.
"Right. Then consider me your lucky charm," he chuckled to himself.
Unexpectedly, Manish took a left turn instead of the prescribed right. Confusion crept in, and I questioned his detour.
"Bear with me," he urged. "We're already running late," I protested, my impatience growing.
"Quiet," he hushed me. At the next intersection, he stopped and pointed towards a glass building on our left. "That's her office," he declared.
I looked up, impressed by Manish's thoughtfulness. "There, you can see the name of her company," he pointed to the brightly lit digital board. Reading the company's name, I felt reassured; this was indeed her workplace.
"This is where she works, and from here, I'll guide you to her residence," Manish explained before leading the way towards her home.
Within the next 10-12 minutes, we arrived at her apartment. As we came to a stop, my heart raced, anxiety creeping in. I was apprehensive about the audacity of this late-night endeavor and feared her disapproval. Disembarking from the bike, a dog in the apartment's parking area growled menacingly at me, followed by relentless barking.
"Damn, that dog is treating us like thieves," I exclaimed, feeling uneasy.
"I'll handle the dog if needed; you just call her," Manish reassured me, fixing an intense gaze on the barking dog.
With phone in hand, I dialed her number. The clock had struck midnight on the 3rd of September, technically now the 4th. Standing on the road beside her apartment, I called continuously, fixating my gaze on the same window where she had waved to me last time.
With each unanswered ring, the burning desire to see her at that window intensified. I pleaded internally, yearning for a glimpse of her face before returning to the routine of my life. The clock ticked - 12:00, 12:01, 12:02, 12:03, and 12:04 - each call going unanswered. With every failed attempt, the spark in my eyes dimmed, hope fading. Battling tears, I grappled with pain, maintaining composure with tremendous effort. Even the dog had fallen silent.
"Maybe she's asleep," I uttered, dejection evident in my voice.
"Should we knock on the..." Manish began to suggest.
"No, we shouldn't. I've crossed enough lines tonight. I'd rather leave with pain than lose all respect in her eyes."
"What do we do now?" Manish inquired.
I glanced at the darkened window. It seemed we had arrived too late. "What can we do now?" I sighed, turning to Manish. "Let's head back to our flat."
Though reluctant to leave, Manish knew there was nothing more to be done. "Come on, we came this far for her, and now we're leaving without seeing her?" he expressed disappointment.
"I'm sorry for the troubles you had to endure," I said, attempting to appear strong, despite the emotional turmoil within. I felt hurt, realizing that no matter what efforts I exerted in life, they seemed inconsequential.
"Please call her once more; if she doesn't pick up, then we'll head back," Manish requested.
It was 12:07, and I made the next call. Both of us stared hopefully at the window, yearning to see the lights switch on. A minute passed, the phone ringing persistently, but our hopes died with the unanswered call. I remained silent, a lump in my throat. Manish reluctantly ignited the bike and took the turn, while I continued to gaze at the window, holding onto a glimmer of hope, though deep down, I knew it was futile.
I couldn't help but recall F. Scott Fitzgerald's words, "Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away." I turned around, seated myself behind Manish on his bike, and together we departed for our flat.
"God damn it, I thought I'm your lucky charm. What kind of luck did I even bring to you?" Manish fought against the defeat.
"You tried more than I deserved. It's not your fault. It's just life; I told you all things only end with disappointments."
"I feel bad," Manish said innocently.
"So do I," I replied, trying to remain strong despite feeling at my worst. "Let's get back to our home. And you have brought me great luck, Manish," I said in a grave voice.
"Which is?" he wondered.
"The luck of true friendship," I answered.
These words brought a bright smile to his gloomy face.
"Let's go, friend," he said to me with new enthusiasm.
And we both put it behind us, started humming some songs, and cracked our usual jokes. Perhaps this wasn't supposed to be a beautiful night for me, but that was okay. I could have a great time with my dear friend, and that's what mattered.
"Bhai, I need to pee," said Manish. "But BC, if I pee, all the effect of liquor would drop down with it."
"Even I need to pee now," I said, feeling a release of emotions.
"Waah dost, kya dosti hai. Dono ko saath mein hi mutna hai," said Manish with another level of enthusiasm. Funny how this moment of friendship made him forget the reason for the gloom.
I burst out in laughter, hitting him on the shoulder gently. "You are mad, Manya."
"Haan, fir. But bhai, pakdenge khud ka," and he started to laugh again.
I couldn't resist it either. We both had forgotten the reason for sadness and were laughing for such silly reasons.
"Oh, I remember the reel you had shared with me. It was from the Mirzapur series, right?" I said when I paused to catch some breath.
"Yeah. Munna Bhaiya said the same dialogues," and then stopped the bike at the side of the road. We found a good secluded place to pee, and we both were laughing while doing so. Then, we stopped at the tea center, washed our hands, and mulled over what to do next.
"We would just ramble around city roads at midnight," suggested Manish.
"Let's go then," I suggested.
We were passing by Symbiosis Law College. The institution seemed grand, and of course, I had heard of it like everyone else.
"So tomorrow you would be leaving then?" asked Manish.
"Yeah," I confirmed.
"Today was Saturday; that's why I asked you to stay so that we could have a night out because there is Sunday tomorrow anyway. One can take a late morning sleep."
"Yeah, exactly," I said it casually, then something suddenly hit me. "Wait a minute. Tomorrow is Sunday."
"Ha toh bhul gaya tha kya?" said Manish.
I was lost in some thoughts, and then I quickly picked out the phone from my pocket and called her once again.
"We didn't see any light, did we, despite calling her multiple times. No sign of waking up from sleep."
"Yeah, so?" wondered Manish.
"Only if she was in the flat. She could be outside, somewhere where she would be unable to hear the phone ring."
"And that place could be..." Manish was trying to follow.
"A club." I emphasized the word too much in utter excitement. And I saw the mobile screen; this time she had picked up the phone call.
"Manish, stop the bike," I almost screamed, and he hit the brakes instantly, and I jumped off the bike.
"Hey!" I said on the phone, not sure if she is actually hearing my voice. I could hear some loud music in the background.
"Hey, sorry I just checked my phone and saw so many missed calls. Is everything okay?" she asked from the other end.
"Yeah... it's just I was feeling thirsty so I thought to get some water at your place," I replied.
She was blank for a moment, "I am sorry, I didn't get what you meant."
"I am standing next to your apartment." Well, technically, I wasn't, but I still said it to her.
"What?" she was surprised, as I intended her to be. "Now?" she couldn't believe it.
"Yeah." I had new enthusiasm within me. Manish was smiling, noticing that sudden change in me. Oh, that old smile had returned to his friend's face.
"But where are you?" I knew she wasn't at home.
"Well, I am not at my home right now," she replied, still processing what was going on.
"That much I got it already," I nagged her. "So, how much time do I have to wait here for your arrival from a club?"
"Um...you would wait?" she wondered.
"Yeah, I could wait for you," I replied. And Manish made a face.
"It's past 12, and it could take 2 hours for me to return," she was hesitant, not sure how it would work out.
"2 hrs?" Well, that was a long time. And if I wait for her next to her building, the dog would wake up the whole neighborhood for sure. As I looked at Manish, he had already made a face. He hinted to me to ask her where she is. "Are you so far away that it would take this much time?"
"I mean, not that far from my flat. Around 2-3 km."
"Which club are you at?" I asked.
"Me? Um, Helium," she replied.
"Okay."
"Why? Are you coming here?" she was a bit surprised.
I looked at Manish. I didn't have to tell him to understand what part of the conversation was going on. He just nodded in return. "Yes. We are coming there." I answered.
Manish hinted at me to ask her for the location.
"Could you please share your location on WhatsApp?"
"Um, sure."
"Well, see you there then." I winked at Manish, and he started the bike.
"Um, okay." she was still processing that this was actually happening.
I put the phone down and opened the WhatsApp chat to see her location. Manish was just waiting for me to tell him which way to head. He didn't know where this Helium Club was.
I received the location from her, and as I opened it, it showed nearly a 4 km distance.
"Manish, U-turn," I said in an enthusiastic voice and climbed onto the back seat without looking out of my mobile screen.
"Are we going into a club?" asked Manish.
"At the club, not into it. Or should we go inside?" I asked feeling confused. I was navigating our way. "It seems this is near Yerwada Jail. Some Ishanya Mall, there is this club."
"Are you asking her to come out?" asked Manish.
"I suppose stag entry would dry our salary," I tried to give a thought.
"Only a couple entry is free," answered Manish.
"Do you think they allow gay couples free entry?" I wondered.
"Bsdk, ab tere dosti me gay bhi ban jau kya?" Manish was terrified of the idea.
I laughed heartily. "Relax. I was just messing with you. I don't want to go to a club like this with her. She's with her friends right now, if she's going out with me. I just want her attention only on me, no crowd is preferred for special moments."
"Sahi hai." Manish laughed.
"Now let's go to Helium," I said like I was the captain of the ship and was announcing to my crew member that we are heading to some island called Helium.
When we were reaching the Ishanya Mall, the first thing we both noticed was the Ganpati Stall which we had crossed before reaching her flat.
"Dude, this is the same Ganpati," said Manish in awe.
"Yeah, and the map tells us we have to take left, right before the Ganpati Sculpture."
"How uncanny, we were already so near her, and yet we didn't know," said Manish.
"That's twice in two days. Don't forget about the Koregaon Park incident too," I reminded him of last night's memory.
Anticipating our arrival at the Helium club, I gave her a quick call, notifying her that we were about to reach in the next 30 seconds. She acknowledged with an "okay" and mentioned she was heading outside the club to greet us.
Navigating the bustling Ishanya Mall, we made a left turn after the Ganpati Sculpture, following the map's guidance. Manish skillfully parked the bike as I walked ahead, a mix of excitement and nervousness enveloping me as I realized I was moments away from finally seeing her.
An expansive open space with a marble floor stretched before us, bathed in the glow of pavement lights, under the canopy of a dark night. Trees swayed gracefully in the night breeze, and a hushed tranquility enveloped the surroundings, as if the night itself awaited her arrival.
At the entrance of the Helium club, half a dozen bouncers stood guard, and I waited at a distance. Manish positioned himself a little behind me, and together we observed her approach. She stood at the club's entrance, negotiating with the check-in point for a brief ten-minute conversation with her friend. As she secured permission and emerged from the club premises, I turned my head over my left shoulder, nodding to Manish.
"I'll be there on the left edge," Manish remarked, leaving me alone to enjoy the company of this special moment.
As she walked towards me, a surge of exhilaration washed over me. I gazed at her with the intensity of Gabriel watching Bathsheba, capturing the moment in the essence of Thomas Hardy's novel "Far From the Madding Crowd" (1874).
"Hi," she greeted with surprise in her voice, seemingly still processing the fact that this seemingly foolish boy had actually come to see her at such an odd hour.
"Hey," I responded, and as I looked at her, any lingering anger from the day dissipated. It felt unfair how effortlessly she could influence my emotions; her charm unknowingly working its magic on me. Before I could lose myself further in contemplation, I realized she was waiting for me to say something.
"My apologies, I don't mean to intrude into your social time, but my friend," I pointed at Manish with my thumb, "He is Manish. His protective behavior towards me brought me here. Another one even threatened to throw me out of the flat if I return without seeing you."
She narrowed her eyes, "Is that so? And why were they putting such restrictions upon you?" she inquired.
"Because they've been enduring my sulky face the entire day, like the bright smile I had after Thursday night," I mentioned. She scrutinized me more closely; Thursday night was when we had gone for dinner. "Was gone from my face."
"Was it?" She smiled at the corner of her lips. I found that aspect of her so alluring.
I looked at her, captivated by her enchanting face – those black, pearly eyes, the pink curve of her smile, and her overall allure that surpassed the beauty of the evening sky.
Pausing for a moment, I shook my head, attempting to dispel the facade of civility I was putting up before her. I wanted to be mad at her, wished I could, but I felt inexplicably weak in her presence.
"You know what, I'm not even sorry if I'm intruding on your time with friends. I waited all day for just one text from you, hoping to spend my time with you. But other things took priority." I averted my gaze, finding it impossible to stay mad at her while looking at her beautiful face. Her eyes alone could intoxicate me.
"Which is completely fine. I don't expect myself to be that important to you so soon, as you've become to me." In this moment, her eyes hinted at a trace of concern, but she remained silent, allowing me to vent out the frustration I had carried throughout the day. "It hurt me," I admitted weakly. "I felt neglected by you, and it upset me a lot. The smile I had on my face instantly vanished, and these idiots, my friends, who care immensely for me, especially Manish." I glanced at him, and so did she. Turning back to her, I continued, "He's the guy who booked a car for me when I was sick in Amravati to drop me 100km away at my home." I sighed, recalling the heartbreak and pain it caused me. "It's been a really long time since the people who care for me saw me happy with someone, and Manish didn't want me to go back to my work life without seeing you once."
"Only he wanted that?" she asked, staring deep into my eyes, making me feel like she was delving into my insecure heart.
"No," I asserted. Recently, I had been learning to prioritize my needs over other people's expectations, and I wasn't hesitant to express what I wanted to this girl. "I wanted to see you. I wanted to etch you into my memory as much as I could. That's why I agreed to come along with Manish when he insisted on seeing you. Because come Monday, I'll be back to my work life, in the most crowded city, filled with thousands of beautiful faces, but yours won't be among them." I sighed in annoyance. "I came here because I wanted to see you once before I go back, so that I could feel okay even in the most unreasonable situations there. And trust me, there are some unreasonable situations waiting for me. Despite knowing that I'll be troubled by those, this brief pleasure, this moment of standing next to you, is all I wanted to feel."
"And are you feeling better now?" she asked, amusement evident at my efforts to conceal how much she truly mattered to me.
"Yes!" I responded a bit angrily, keeping my voice low. Of course, I was feeling better now; I was looking at her. How could I not feel okay when I looked at her? I talk to hundreds of girls, but I don't feel a thing. Yet, I felt a thousand things even without speaking much with her.
"I am sorry," she said gently. I looked at her. "I wish I could have known about your plans; it was so sudden for me."
"It's fine," I said, trying not to sound mad at her, though a hint of frustration lingered. She smiled, somewhat irritating me. "Do you know how many plans I had made? I just wanted to spend time with you, take a walk, have lunch, then visit a bookstore and buy you my favourite book, 'A Man Called Ove.' Ishani, a friend of mine, originally said that to me. That was my way of showing you who I really am. And when we return to your place," she looked at me with investigating expressions, "and if you have a Netflix subscription, which I really hope you do, then we would have watched my favourite movie, 'Meet Joe Black.' That's the movie I wanted to watch with you. It's such a beautiful movie."
I was making a concerted effort to hide my frustration, masking the disappointment of not being able to make the most of my limited time with her. When I gazed into her beautiful eyes, I could sense a momentary flicker of pain, perhaps realizing the unintentional hurt she had caused the boy standing beside her at 1 a.m. under the enchanting night sky.
"Even if I couldn't see you tonight, it wouldn't have meant returning to Mumbai without seeing you for the second time. You were in Koregaon Park last night, weren't you?" I mentioned, looking down.
She appeared puzzled, her curiosity evident as she fixed her gaze on me.
"Last night, on my way home after our call, I happened to pass by you in the Koregaon Park area. I noticed you standing by the road with your friends, looking as beautiful as ever," she said, her gaze intensifying. I felt a twinge of discomfort.
"Hold on a second. Are you saying you saw me in Koregaon Park and didn't even stop to say hello?" She raised her eyebrows in surprise, locking eyes with me.
"Did you genuinely want me to do that?" I was taken aback.
"Yeah," she stressed, as if expressing a sincere desire for me to take that action.
In that moment, a profound sense of regret overwhelmed me. Manish had encouraged me to greet her with a simple "hi," but I lacked the courage to follow through. Now, reflecting on her words, I realized I should have summoned the bravery to believe that encountering me again could bring someone genuine joy.
"I was concerned you might perceive it as stalking. It just seemed improbable that, in a vast city like this, we'd coincidentally end up in the same place without any prior plans. Plus, I wasn't sure if you would appreciate me saying hi at that moment."
"Why wouldn't I?" she inquired, her alluring eyes fixed on my insecure gaze.
In my heart, I confessed, "Because I didn't think I was good enough to capture your interest." "Well, at least I would have cherished a glimpse of you in my memory if we hadn't met tonight. That would have been a great relief for me."
She regarded me mysteriously, as if pondering the possibility of someone genuinely admiring her this much. Perhaps she was at a loss for words. In that moment, we exchanged a prolonged gaze, and still harboring a bit of frustration, I couldn't resist expressing my lingering discontent.
"You look incredibly beautiful, you know?" I stated, almost annoyed by how effortlessly alluring she appeared. Her calling me 'Mr. Writer' in that seductive voice was a total game-changer; it had me thinking, "Damn, that's turning me on."
She chuckled in response. "Yeah, I know I'm looking beautiful."
"Well, you always do, but tonight feels different," I said, a mix of annoyance and gentleness in my tone.
"Actually, one of my friends at the club mentioned that I'm looking good," she shared, triggering a pang of uncertainty within me. There could be other guys vying for her attention, and although I knew many would be drawn to her, I hesitated to dive into the ocean of passion without confirming her feelings.
"Perhaps that friend of yours likes you," I suggested cautiously.
She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, a gesture that irked me. I found it intensely frustrating how some girls could act so oblivious to someone's interest, despite it being as clear as a summer sky.
"Even my girlfriends at the club were like, 'You're looking pretty tonight,'" she mentioned, trying to play it off casually. But for me, nothing about her could ever be casual, I suppose.
"Are you sure they're not all secretly lesbians?" I quipped, delivering the line in a way that earned a laugh from her. Her laughter, like a symphony, echoed through the moment. ‘Oh, all the stars in the universe, I swear, I see paradise in her smile.’
Her phone interrupted our connection; it was her friends from the club wondering what was taking her so long. Checking her phone, she seemed to have received a flurry of texts from them.
"I have to go, they're waiting," she said, torn between the desire to rejoin her friends in the pub and staying here with the writer boy standing beside her. "I think I should head back now."
"Yeah," I replied, my eyes betraying the truth that I really didn't want her to leave.
She extended her right hand, a gesture signaling the impending farewell.
A handshake? A mere gesture of parting ways? Was that truly the farewell I desired with her, even reminiscent of the night at her flat? No, in reality, what I yearned for was standing intimately close to her, sensing the warmth of her breath on my neck, gently moving my lips along her cheek, whispering in a tempting voice, 'I like you.' Finally, a soft kiss on her cheek before slowly stepping away.
This scenario played out vividly in my imagination, aware that it remained confined to the realm of fantasy. Nevertheless, I took hold of her soft hand, gazing intensely into her eyes as we shook hands. She put on a smile effortlessly, while I struggled to summon any effort.
"See you again then," she said.
"When?" I pondered.
"I don't know, but when time reunites us," she replied. A friend of hers emerged from the club, seeking her. She nodded gently, turned away, but her hand lingered in mine.
Glancing back at our joined hands, she looked at me with gentle yet puzzled eyes. I held her gaze, refusing to release her hand, desperately yearning for another moment with her – just one moment that I wished could stretch. I just wanted one more moment with her which I wished to last till eternity.
Admitting my growing fondness, I found myself silently hoping to fall in love again. This solitary existence had become burdensome; perhaps, all I needed was companionship. My curiosity towards her grew, viewing her as an enticing mystery – a story I longed to write.
Reluctantly, I let go of her hand, bidding, "Bye-bye, Chubby Cheeks."
"Bye-bye, Mr. Writer," she responded, her smile leaving a lasting impression on the night.
As we parted ways, she exchanged goodbyes with Manish, and I couldn't help but be touched by her considerate gesture. She glanced at me one last time, and then we both walked away in opposite directions, leaving the night with its lingering mysteries.
Attempting to reach the parking lot, Manish urged me to halt and glance back at her, but I resisted. Parting from her was already challenging, and I subtly signaled to Manish that it was time to leave. As we made our way back to the parking area, Manish remarked, "You know, I witnessed a truly beautiful sight tonight and managed to capture it on camera."
Turning to him, I was curious, and he showcased his mobile phone. On the screen was a picture of her and me, standing face to face, engaged in conversation. I gazed at the image, unable to convey to Manish how profoundly beautiful it was for me and how grateful I was for his thoughtful capture.
In that moment, I looked at him and enveloped him in a tight hug. I was deeply moved by the realization of how much he cared for me and showered me with his love. "I love you, man," I expressed my gratitude to him. He wasn't just a friend; he was a vigilant brother I was fortunate to have.
He reciprocated the hug, chuckled, and replied, "I love you too," with a laugh. "Didn't I tell you? I am your lucky charm."
"Indeed, you are. You brought me great luck tonight," I responded with hearty laughter.
As he mounted the bike and ignited the engine, a delighted expression adorned his face. I observed the sheer joy radiating from my friend Manish, and witnessing his happiness only added to my own.
Heading back to the flat, he vocalized his playful annoyance at every dog that crossed our path. "Usko mil ke aaye hum. Samjha?" he exclaimed, and I couldn't help but burst into laughter. The lingering effects of the liquor were apparent, and it seemed that the barking dog beneath her apartment had left Manish quite offended, prompting him to declare our mission accomplished to every passing canine.
Eager to share my newfound excitement, I decided to call Apoo. As she answered, I exclaimed, "Apoo, I met her again, just now. I really like her, Apoo, I like her so much. Gosh, I'm in another world."
She chuckled, remarking, "Look at you, Bhai, how happy you sound."
"That's because I am," I declared proudly.
"I'm happy for you. I'm at Marine Lines with our college friends. I'll get back to you; it's a bit noisy here," suggested Apoo.
"I understand. Go have fun, sis. I just wanted to tell you that your Bhai met her again," I shared excitedly.
She laughed in response, and we hung up. Upon reaching the flat, Bhushan stirred from his sleep and inquired, "Did you see her?"
I smiled, nodded, and happily replied, "Yes."
"That's my bro," he acknowledged before returning to sleep.
Now, struggling to sleep, her beautiful face occupied my thoughts. It seemed that even in my dreams, I couldn't escape the enchantment of her presence. The smile that had eluded me was back on my face.
- The End of Night 3 -
(...and then it felt like our feet were on the stars.)
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