Chapter Nine: In (Full?) Circles

Dinner was eventually a significantly above average meal at twenty-four hour café housed by the hotel where Maddy was staying. And the hour they spent was pleasant, even fun – thanks to the fact that it was all four of them at the table, discussing the happenings of the week, laughing at some of the madness they had found themselves in. Arnav, true to his position as the senior most on the team stayed quiet for the most part and allowed the rest of them to talk, without contradicting anything that was said. Khushi didn’t fail notice or wonder how much of what was intentional and perhaps being used as learning about his people.

At the end of dinner, Khushi and Arnav made their way to the car for the short ride back to the Inn where they were staying. Once seated, awkwardness that had largely been non-existent for the better part of the week, came rushing back, almost as if the night had seeped between them from the memory of another time when there was no distance and yet no heartbreak. Arnav remained quiet as he pulled out of the parking and veered the silent vehicle out to the main road.

“Would you prefer to stay here instead of the Inn?” He asked a couple of minutes of silence later, once again surprising Khushi with how perceptive he really was. She might as well have spelled out the comparison between the more modest dwelling they inhabited versus the clearly more flashy version the rest of their team did.

“The Inn is better suited for long term stay. I know it’s not very luxurious but its fully equipped kitchenette allows you to cook yourself simple meals at least once in a while.”

She shook her head. “I cannot cook to save my life. But I understand.” She really did have moments where she had wondered at what point the constant eating out would get to her – not to mention completely derail her fitness program. Already the week that had gone by had done so without exercise. Eight weeks of this and she would be right back where she started a few months ago. And what would Raagini say? Sighing inaudibly, she looked to her left and found herself asking unexpectedly. “Do you cook?”

“Sometimes.”

She looked out again as the twinkling lights in the clear sky above shimmered even as the silence settled back between them.

“What do you plan to do for the weekend?”

Khushi looked at him in surprise as she realized that she was solely incharge for her time over the weekend in a land where she knew no one and had no place to go to except if she decided to fly out to New York to meet her friend from school. Ha! If only she was the person who could pull off impromptu plans. Inertia and miserliness were bosom buddies and far too deeply entrenched drinking chai from the same pyali in her lazy, middle-class soul. “Sleep.” She answered eventually.

“I will be out till Sunday evening starting tomorrow afternoon but I can take you out for breakfast tomorrow morning.” He said as the car drove in to the parking lot of the Inn and came to a quiet halt just outside her block. “If you’d like, that is.”

He was going to be out all weekend?

Of course he was going to be out all weekend.

He lived here for the most part of a year. He probably had friends to meet. Someone who was more than a friend perhaps? Her heart squeezed at the thought for a microsecond before she mentally smacked herself. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care. This was not AV-Sir. This was not even Arnav. This was AV – Senior Manager, Strategy; Project Lead for Wyatt Motors’s Emerging Markets Entry Strategy assignment being delivered by A&M Consulting at their world headquarters. She knew nothing of this man except that he was a professional superstar. And that was enough.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just sleep in till late.”

He finally turned to look at her. She thanked the heavens that it was too dark outside and within for either of them to really see each other. She blinked as she caught the light in his glasses.

“I’ll…Wait a second, I’ll park the car here and hand you the keys. I won’t be needing it and you can…”

‘No, no…I won’t need it. I am hardly the type to sight-see alone. I’ll be fine.”

“Not much to sight-see in Detroit, alone or otherwise. But you will need to eat at least four meals over the next couple of days. And I am sure you have laundry to do.” He said as he revved up the engine and deftly manuevred the vehicle into the empty slot just outside her room. When he turned the ignition off, she let herself out and shivered slightly as the icy air brushed against her face and sneaked into the gaps in her coat. She pulled her arms around her and waited as Arnav walked over and held the keys out.

It was probably just her imagination that she had seen something flicker in his eyes – or perhaps it was the quick reflection of lights from the room above hers in his glasses.

“Good night.” He said softly as her hands closed around the keys and his fell away without contact with her skin.

“Good night.” She whispered with a half smile which he didn’t return.

————

Some time later that night or early next morning as one chose to see it, before closing her eyes in defeat after a lost battle with sleep, she would wonder if there was any way by which she would have forgotten all about that link that Arjun sent her way before he disappeared like he always did. Idiot. Why was she even friends with him?

Nevertheless, her patience only lasted the time she changed out of her work clothes into a loose T-shirt she had picked from the plus size Men’s section back home – the only ones that hung on her like the baby-blue shirt Julia Roberts sported in Notting Hill the morning after she slept with Hugh Grant. She smiled sheepishly when she realized how firmly the image was imprinted in her head and how unfixable her filminess really was. Once snuggled into the thick white duvet, the heating in her room working overtime to fight the frost of the world outside, she took exactly two minutes to curse herself for closing the chat window with Arjun without saving the link and then quickly jumped to YouTube to search for the title she wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

The video came on quickly and twinkled into her ears before punching her gut with a force too strong for a body tired and a heart desperately working to save itself.

There he was, in the center of a carefully arranged set up of singers forming the chorus, the instrumentalists – him on the acoustic guitar and another on an electric one.

And beside him was Nishant-Sir, his face brilliantly plump, head full of curly hair that gave him the appearance of a maestro. Her heart warmed immediately at the sight. Why had she lost touch with this person, she wondered? Was it Arjun’s comment about Nishant-Sir having had feelings for her? No, she concluded. She was the kind of person who let people go irrespective of how important they were to her. Arjun, in fact was the only one to have survived. And it was largely to his own credit. After all, the truth was that if Arjun had not shown up at the station when she was first leaving for Bangalore, she might never have reached out to him of her own accord.

AV-Sir, however, had no such issues clearly. It was ten years later, more than that infact, and he was still singing with Nishant Kumar Pathak. And were they singing!

The guitar strummed against his fingers, even as the keyboard mimicked the accordion and merged into the notes.

And it was Arnav who started, his fingers twisting against the strings on one end and the pick at the other.

Paani da, rang vekh ke

Paani da, rang vekh ke

Paani da, rang vekh ke

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

The chorus finished the line and waited for the other voice to pick the song up as AV, shrugged at Nishant-Sir.

Maahiya na aaya mera, maahiya na aaya

Maahiya na aaya mera, maahiya na aaya

Raanjhana na aaya mera, maahiya na aaya

Maahiya na aaya mera, raanjhana na aaya

And Arnav took over again.

Akhaan da, noor vekh ke

Akhaan da, noor vekh ke

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

As the background music stilled for a second, in a perfect imitation of the original – which not surprisingly Khushi knew as well as those singing on the screen seemed to. And Nishant-Sir picked up once again, his slightly sufi voice blending in effortlessly with Arnav’s more playback-ish voice

Kamli ho gayi tere bina, aaja raanjhan mere

Kamli ho gayi tere bina, aaja raanjhan mere

Baarish barkha sab kuch beh gayi, aaya nahi jind mere

Baarish barkha sab kuch beh gayi, aaya nahi jind mere

The intensity of Nishant-Sir’s voice was still as stinging as it was when she first heard his Teri Deewani rendition. And though in the moment, it had been her fledgling feelings for Arnav that she had associated with that song, over the years, it was Nishant-Sir she thought of fondly when she heard strains of it playing in buses and tea-shops.

Akhaan da, noor vekh ke

Akhaan da, noor vekh ke

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

The guitars stopped and stummed in all strings for a second as the camera panned and then zoomed into Arnav’s face, the lights shimmering behind his head like a halo. His eyes glowed unfettered by glasses and his face gleamed in yearning that she had deliberately forgotten.

Kothe utte baihke, ankhiyaan milaunde

Na jaana humein tu kabhi chhod

Tere utte marda, pyaar tenu karda

Milega tujhe na koi aur

Her heart spun around her spine in an axis of heartache as the screen now focused on his eyes alone and nothing else. The moment was short, so short that with anyone else, she might not even have noticed the little movement. This was a video, she reminded herself even as she told herself to breathe. He wasn’t singing for someone, especially for her. And the words….they were coincidental. She might have been the one to leave. She might have been the one to never find another. But…it was not possible. Five years was a long time. It was a LONG time, more than most couples her age now had together.

Tu bhi aa, sabko chhod ke,

Tu bhi aa, sabko chhod ke,

Meri, ankhiyaanch hanju rudd de

Her eyes filled suddenly, the years of guilt and wondering whether she had been right or wrong, squeezing her chest painfully enough to make her want to forget about her no crying alone or otherwise rule.

Now Nishant-Sir and AV looked at each other and sang together, a small smile on both their lips as the camera zoomed out and panned to all the chorus and instrumentalists by turn as the song came to an end and the group together in pre-arranged sync.

Paani da, rang vekh ke

Paani da, rang vekh ke

Paani da, Rang vekh ke

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

Aankhiyaanch, hanju rudd de

The lights deemed one by one and eventually blanked the screen out as the music dimmed and came to a stop. And once again, the silence in her room screamed in her ears.

She flipped laptop close and threw it aside, her eyelashes sweeping against her cheeks in a damp trail of self-inflicted destiny as she absently reached out to her right and plunged her room into darkness with the flick of a button.

——————

The bunch of keys remained lying hapless and unattended on the small wooden desk in her room for the better part of the night and next morning. Breakfast was a hurried affair when she woke up in a haste close to closing time. After breakfast, Khushi sauntered back to the room, taking the straight path instead of a roundabout around the parking lot, just to avoid running into Arnav – after all he did mention that he would be out only starting afternoon. The hours rolled by slower than she had ever experienced in her lifetime. She – who couldn’t ever have enough time to herself to do what she most wanted – was bored by the time it was two in the afternoon. Reruns of House MD held little appeal. Friends was cheerful to indulge in. Maggi made lunch and lifted her spirits a little but by early evening, though it was already dark, the thought of making a Walmart trip began to sound very appealing. She could, of course, go to the little gym in the Inn and work some of her nervous energy out. But then, what kind of sensible person would that make her?

So, around five in the evening, she had a bath, got dressed and layered herself with the sole aim of making her first solo driving trip in the US, even if it was only a mile of driving in all. Thankfully, over the week, Arnav had been anal enough to force her to drive at least one way every day – usually in the morning.

And hour later, she was back in the room, having successfully completed her solo trip to Walmart. She felt a sense of accomplishment unparalleled by those she had actively spent more time and effort on. She chuckled to herself as she placed the flimsy white bag full of completely unnecessary buying. And to think she had always claimed she was one untouched by retail therapy. Perhaps given the right circumstances, everyone was…

The sharp buzz of her phone rudely interrupted the thought. She looked at the digital alarm by the bed and frowned. It was still too early in India for anyone to call her. So she hurried to pick her phone up and was even more surprised to see a local Detroit code flashing on the screen.

Arnav? She took a deep breath and answered the call with a tentative “Hello”

“Kaveri?”

She let out a deep breath. Not Arnav. And no, she wasn’t disappointed. Just incredibly confused. Who could possibly call her here on her US number? And then the thought occureed in flash of disappointment. Work! It had to be! Dammit. Served her right for complaining about being bored.

“Yes?” She answered and crossed her fingers and toes. Please, Shiv-ji, let it not be work.

“How are you?”

She frowned. What was this? “I’m good. Who’s this?”

There was a small chuckle on the other side. Too soft. “You didn’t recognize me, of course.”

Err… “No,” She said half defensively and then chided herself. Why was she feeling stupid? The person who was doing this should be feeling idiotic. Who did this? “Who is this?” She asked again, her voice now a lot sterner than it had been.

Chuckles followed once again, this time louder and somewhat familiar. “I know it’s been almost a decade but…okay answer this – did you finally get classical music training or not?”

The lights came on in her head not unlike a comic book. She could literally picture the thought cloud above her head bursting with light as bulb flickered to life. A smile split on to her face in warmth she couldn’t believe she was capable of for someone she hadn’t seen in – he was right – almost a decade. “Nishant-Sir? Is that you?”

This time the laughter was unmistakable – still hesitant and too soft. How had she not placed him immediately? It was so obvious. And so uncanny. Just last night was the first time she’d seen Nishant-Sir in a decade and now…

“Chalo, thank God! It’s not all bad yet,” He was saying, still chuckling.

Khushi’s smile widened. “This is such a surprise. How…” She shook her head, “How did you get my number? How did you even know I am in the US and…how come you are here too? Arjun? Did he tell you? I didn’t even know he was in touch…”

“This must have been the most Ive heard you speak ever, Kaveri. Stop, stop.”

Khushi chuckled and sat down on the bed. He was right. And she was surprised by herself.

“I live here – in Detroit. The otherside of town from where you are but the same town nevertheless.”

“Oh really? You do? That’s such a coincidence.”

“It’s about to get weirder.”

Khushi frowned bemusedly. “Matlab?”

“Matlab, I work with Wyatt Motors. In the R&D function. I head the Vehicle design group.”

“Oh wow! That is just so cool.” Khushi said as genuine awe filled her mouth. He must be very good at what he did to work with Wyatt’s R&D. And Vehicle Desig…Now here was someone who was using his engineering degree well.

“Cool is having AV tell me that IE-V’s famous first year mech girl is in Detroit and as a hot-shot consultant. Can you believe he is still such a mystery man – he must have known for what,” The phone seemed to shuffle on the other end as his voice became dimmer, “You’ve known for at least a month, AV? And you tell me now and you don’t tell her at all.”

Arnav. Of course. Suddenly so much seemed to make sense. Nishant-Sir’s connections must have helped Arnav make his own connections at Wyatt. He stayed here for months – he had to have a social life. And the music video that she had seen last night…

“Anyway, I am so glad AV told me when he did. This weekend is all gone. But let’s meet next weekend? AV usually comes down and stays with us. You should come with him next time.”

She didn’t know what to say. Saying no was rude. And saying yes was dangerous. She found herself saying something non-committal even as Nishant Kumar Pathak restated how happy he was to have connected with her after so many years – a declaration she resoundingly reciprocated. They spoke for a few more minutes – mostly about Arjun and how Nishant and Arjun had infact been in touch uncharacteristically sporadically over the years and that he hadn’t spoken to Arjun in almost two years – the time that he had made the transition to Wyatt from another auto-maker in the city. The call ended with Nishant-Sir re-extending the invitation for her to join Arnav the next time he made his usual weekend trip.

Later that night, she watched the Pani Da Rang video again and once more after that, this time focusing as much on Nishant-Sir as she did on Arnav. She smiled to herself as the second viewing came to an end and as YouTube prompted another user video which she decided against watching. What all was this man capable of? Music videos? In addition to being a top-performing consultant and as busy as she knew client-facing management consultants were.

And how absolutely surreal would it be to take Nishant-Sir up on his offer for her to visit. She decided she would go if the invitation came about again closer to the end of the week. Yes. She would go. She didn’t know whether the decision would last till it was actually time to execute but she owed it to her eighteen year old self to go meet these people again. Perhaps, Shiv-ji really was giving her the closure she was so sure she didn’t need.

River Song, Music and Lyrics

Song Title: Naam Gum Jaayega

Album: Kinara

Singer(s): Lata Mangeshkar, Bhupendra

Music: R. D. Burman

Lyrics: Gulzar

 

Jo guzar gayi, kal ki baat thi

Umrh toh nahi, ek raat thi

Raat ka sira agar, phir mile kahin

Meri awaaz hi pehchaan hai

Gar yaad rahe

 

 

Note:

1. Thank you all for reading and for waiting so patiently as I deal with a rather cruel real world.
2. Next Update: Monday, May 1, 2017 late night IST
3. While I ask you to wait, might I also suggest a couple of pieces of sheer brilliance, toe curling, intense and everything we love about romantic fiction.
   1. Begin Again by chotidesi (Meena Narayan): This is not Fan-fiction but please don’t let that stop you from diving right in. Not to be missed and the best way to encourage a former fan-fiction writer from amongst us! She just posted Chapter Twenty a couple days ago and I hope (I want to say I am sure) that she will see this through.
   2. One Day At A Time by Sohni: This one is from our very own Appu / Sohniye. Set in the early-mid 90s, this one is a toe curling riot of colors – friendship, love and romance. With Chapter Ten posted earlier this week, the story is poised to take that dive that plunges readers right into the depths of story-telling. Her first outing as an author, she says. I am inclined to distrust her – how can debuts be this well done? (I hope to be able to share another debut as soon as she hits her Chapter Ten mark :))