Chapter Eleven: Breaking Ice (I)

She knew she would never remember those first few moments when she saw Nishant Kumar Pathak again. One never really did remember first meetings with the clarity that films and fiction seemed to indicate, did they? Arjun, for instance. What did she remember of that first meeting with Arjun years ago when they were kids? Or the first-again meeting on day one of IE-V? Even more recently with Raagini – what did she remember except the warmth she felt when she discovered they were connected by a common thread?

In the light of the current situation where she found herself half-embraced – awkwardly enough for those around to chuckle – by Nishant-Sir, his too-long, curly hair falling in a mess around his face as he smiled at her, his face filled out almost as much as the rest of his body had – she couldn’t for the life of her remember how her first meeting with Nishant Pathak had been like? He’d been a stranger one day and a senior, a friend the next. She had no idea why she had ever let these connections fade away.

Arnav and she reached Nishant-Sir’s home a little after one in the afternoon. That her hands were cold and pale had little to do with the severe winter day that they stepped out into and more to do with nervousness that came from meeting people who had once been part of her world and weren’t anymore because she had wished them away. Idiot, she could imagine Someone up there in the Kailash saying to her as He sent them all back one by one as if to mock her and her idiocy.

Within minutes of stepping over the threshold and into the surprisingly large two storeyed house that was Nishant-Sir’s residence, she was enveloped with nostalgia so thick, her blood sang in pleasant delirium. The others Arnav had mentioned – Jeet, Sharan – all Sirs of a different time – they all seemed so familiar, so full of friendship, she hadn’t noticed that she had been separated from Arnav who had unknowingly become her anchor in a strange land and amidst stranger tidings. She was pulled into one conversation after the other – questions about her parents, comments about how she hadn’t changed one bit in the last decade and of course, if she was going to in fact sing with them – after all she was one of the last participants of Aarohan before it was discontinued.

The real surprise, however came when ushered into the large kitchen where more than ten IE-V alums, some with their significant others were gathered, she spotted a woman – still petite, still stunning, still smiling.

“Kaveri,” She said as she saw her and Khushi felt a rush of memories come upon her so quickly, it stole her breath. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Divya Ma’am” She whispered with an astonished smile as the older woman walked up to her, her hair falling in thick, well styled waves around her face. The signs of the decade that had gone by without bringing them face to face, were evident in the small crinkles by her large eyes but nothing had dimmed that hadn’t grown brighter on her face. Why hadn’t Arnav mentioned her? Surely he knew that she was an acquaintance just as the others and that the knowledge of her presence might have calmed Khushi?

“Shush,” She chided, “No Ma’am business. It has been ten years since college, hasn’t it?”

Khushi smiled and nodded. “It will take time to call all of you by your names without the Sirs and Ma’ams.” She said as she glanced around the room at pairs and little groups huddled around curries and parathas that were teasing her senses.

“Don’t I know that? I end up calling Arnav AV-Sir even now when I am not paying attention and it really riles him up,” She laughed as tugged on Khushi’s arm and directed her to the food.

“I can’t eat, Divya Ma’am. I am still stuffed from breakfast.” She said, only half lying. She was indeed still pleasantly full. But the real reason for the sudden loss of appetite had to be the slight inflection in Divya Ma’am’s voice when she spoke of Arnav. Affection, she realized, deep and warm. Realization snuck into her veins and poked under her skin – one that reminded her that she had assumed – perhaps because of Arjun’s confirmation of his marital status and that song he had sung months ago one evening, that there was no one who held his attention more than she had once. She looked around and saw Arnav talking to someone – she couldn’t remember who it was anymore and her heart twisted painfully. How had she allowed this to happen? Again?

“Kaveri?”

She turned now to see Nishant-Sir walk up to her with that small, shy smile that she suddenly recognized as so familiar, exactly what she needed to distract her from this moment. She smiled and let herself be drawn into the world of words and connections stronger than memory threads. She was here for a reason. And she wasn’t about to forget.

————–

The afternoon was nothing like what Khushi had imagined. She expected a re-enactment of one of those pre-Aarohan practice sessions and what she found herself on the edge of was absolute chaos.

Firstly, the instrumentalists were posing more than they were playing, the singers syncing more than they were singing. Sure, given it was Arnav and Nishant-Sir and everyone else with an Aarohan background, it was still mostly melodious and fun but it was nowhere close to the sound quality she had heard on the Pani Da Rang video. The shooting of the video itself, was highly technical. The crew shooting it – basically two people – a man and a woman – friends of friends – was clearly amateurish and was working mostly on instinct and interest than professional knowledge or experience. Which basically meant that to Khushi, it just felt like a lot of whispered conversation and peeking into camera monitors followed by instructions – not always clear and almost always amusing to those on the receiving end. Even Arnav, who was usually unflappable, unreadable, wore for the hours that the shooting stretched, a pained, half exasperated, half embarrassed look which disappeared the moment the bright yellow lights were switched off. The entire shooting was underway in the large den in the basement of Nishant-Sir’s house. The den was sound-proofed and decorated with musical instruments of every shape, size and variety. There was a sound system, a music mixer, large speakers, microphones – who would look at all this and conclude that these people had such serious day jobs? Wasn’t it enough surprise that one of them – a single adult male – actually had a home this big and this well-equipped? It made Khushi feel like she had access to a world that only existed in dreams of bravado that the corporate freedom fighters ironically indulged in during business school.

But the highlight of the afternoon and eventually evening was the song itself. One of her absolute favorites from an off-beat film of the nineties – she loved all the songs from this particular album. But the one they had chosen was so perfect for the blend of Arnav and Nishant-Sir’s voices – as different as they were in texture. The strain of melancholy that ran through the lyrics, penned by the Master of Poetry himself, was like a thread of gold through the finest silks. Finished with the perfect dressing, was the use of chorus – all the others who had assembled at Nishant Kumar Pathak’s residence to create something spectacular. The effect was surreal – similar and yet so different from the original song and its rendition that Khushi couldn’t help but stare at the group in front of her in silent wonder.

It was no surprise then that when Divya Ma’am dismissed her plans of leaving in the evening and almost steamroller-ed her to stay on for the entire weekend and only leave with Arnav when he did late on Sunday, Khushi only nodded in agreement. Now, with night spread over the motor city like a thick, well-worn blanket, the group, smaller than it was in the afternoon, was assembled in the small den for the audio recording.

 

 

Chunni leke soti thi kamaal lagti thi

Arnav crooned softly, his eyes smiling as he nodded at Nishant-Sir.

Paani mein jalta chiraag, lagti thi

Nishant-Sir answered just as softly as he did even as Sharan Mathur on the drums weaved his magic in recreating the ghada sound and the tambourine

Chunni leke soti thi, kamaal lagti thi, Nishant-Sir sang this time and trailed just in time for Arnav to pick the line up, as smoothly as the song had flowed between the original singers

Paani mein jalta chiraag, lagti thi

The music stopped just in time for Nishant-Sir’s line

Biba teri yaad na tale

And the music came back to life again as Sharan Mathur and Jeet Singh picked up the beats again.

Chappa chappa charkha chale, the entire group sang.

Goriyon ke pairon tale, peeli peeli mehendi jale

The song continued to a crescendo of music and lyrics repeated with vigor and ending on high note even as Divya Ma’am, the unofficial coordinator-cum-arranger let her hands fall and the room burst out into applause.

When she would eventually see this video in its final form, perhaps weeks from now, Khushi vowed to remember this feeling, this tinge of envy lacing her absolute, permanent sense of reverence she had for everyone who could spin magic with music, but especially for this set of people, born from her worlds and yet so much more than she could have ever imagined.

———–

“All ex-Aarohaners must sing.” Raghuvesh Tripathi said matter-of-factly as the clamors began to rise around her. She couldn’t help but notice that she was the only IE-V – Aarohan member who wasn’t singing along as the group around her sung in pairs, threes, fours and any other combination that became available. Even some of the spouses and significant others who had accompanied their partners to this hangout, were singing along. Arnav Varun, was of course, fairly central to the proceedings though he, she wanted to point out, wasn’t singing either. He played the guitar, dabbled with the keyboard and experimented with drums as those around him sang. But he didn’t sing. She did find him looking at her fairly regularly though. No, she told herself. It didn’t bother her.

“I haven’t sung since Aarohan,” She shook her head and hoped that she would be left alone. Of course, given that this entire thing about her singing had been going on for almost five minutes now, nothing of the sort was likely. Spotlights, she grimaced.

“Arre it’s not like you have to sing Megh-Malhar and make it rain. AV, Nishant…one of you has to pitch in here.”

She glanced at Arnav who was smiling but looking at rug below as he plucked silently at his guitar strings. Nishant Kumar Pathak was smiling and just about to say something when Divya Ma’am walked and plonked herself next to Khushi. “Raghu, aap shuru karo…Kaveri and I will sing with you.”

Raghuvesh made a face. “Spoil sport. I was trying to ruffle Ms. Gupta’s feathers a little. Ragging toh karne mila nahi back in college – thanks to AV.”

Khushi glanced again at Arnav who was now smiling at Raghu as more people began to echo Raghuvesh’s words about him being the biggest opponent of ragging on campus.

“Enough!” Arnav said at long last, “Stop revenge ragging me now.” He said grinning at his friends around as he struck his guitar decisively and nodded at Raghuvesh. “You heard Madam. Sing.” He prompted.

There was something about the way he referred to Divya as Madam that leeched some of the warmth from her and left her feeling strangely bereft. And angry. She frowned at herself. Where was all this rage coming from this easily?

“AV-Sir,” Divya Ma’am teased with emphasis on the salutation, “Don’t think that we haven’t noticed…”

Khushi leaned back and looked at everyone and everywhere except the two of them.

“You aren’t singing either. So…perhaps you should be singing first.” She paused. “And then Kaveri and I will join. Right, Kaveri?”

“Nishant,” Arnav began with a chuckle but before he could say more, Raghuvesh interrupted again. “Arre yaar a group of singers meeting to record videos and so much drama. Main hi gaa deta hun. AV – chord and cue.”

Khushi couldn’t help but smile at the absolute exasperation in Raghuvesh’s voice.

Arnav struck his strings decisively, “Asha-Kishore, eighties.” He nodded in askance at Raghuvesh who replied almost immediately. “Baaton Baaton mein…”

“Title song?” Arnav confirmed and immediately struck his guitar again while turning to Divya and nodding at her. Despite the unease she felt imagining the relationship between Divya Ma’am and Arnav, it was strangely endearing to see how the group of them were able to communicate by saying so little.

“Suniye” Raghuvesh said with a smile.

“Kahiye” Divya Ma’am replied. Divya, she corrected in her head. “Kahiye”

“Suniye”

Arnav smiled and opened after a couple of trials. Jeet on the drums, joined the song as the music mingled with the words and song came alive around.

Kehte, sunte, baaton, baaton mein pyaar ho jaayega

Pyaar ho jaayega

 

 

Divya put her hand up and shook her head, halting everyone with an instrument. “Too slow. Change. Same combination.”

Arnav shrugged as he raised an eyebrow in Raghuvesh’s direction who was now looking thoughtful. “Your last song together? 2004?” He asked looking at Arnav and Divya alternately. “Yeh Vaada Raha?” Khushi’s smile widened at the mention of the song even before Divya piped up next to her and cheered loudly at the selection.

It is a moment of pure electricity when a group of people liked the same song with equal ardor, Khushi concluded in a moment of serendipitous insight. It pulsed in every antakshari, every singing session the Guptas indulged in at home, Aarohan…

 

 

 

Arnav struck the guitar again, this time needing no time to fall right into the music of the song. Jeet too caught on almost immediately. It still surprised Khushi how they could recreate a whole host of instruments with such ease as Raghuvesh replicated the initial whistle on the keyboard and nodded at Divya who started with the alaap right on cue. It was such a perfectly oiled machine, Khushi could do little except stare.

Tu, tu hai wahi

Dil ne jise apna kaha

Tu hai jahan, main hoon wahan

Ab toh yeh jeena, tere bin hai sazaa..

She turned to Khushi and nodded for her to join in. And just like that all the reasons why she was so sure she wouldn’t sing with Arnav, disappeared. She was technically not singing with him. She was singing with Divya Sahay.

“Mil jaayein iss tarah,

Nishant-Sir perfectly mimicked the clapping from the original song.

Do lehrein jiss tarah

Mil jaayein iss tarah

Do lehrein jiss tarah

Phir ho na judaa, yeh vaada raha

In an instant she knew exactly what she had been missing all these years. Those first few days at IE-V when she had been arm twisted into singing with strangers had been some of the most memorable moments from the last decade. And now, with words she knew from memory, music that came as instinctively as breathing, she felt alive again. This was hers. And as much as Arnav or anyone else was part of this, she couldn’t allow it to be tainted enough to stash in an irretrievable corner of her heart.

Main aawaaz hoon toh, tu hai geet mera, Khushi sang with Divya Ma’am and Arnav copied the complex piece of accompanying music on the guitar with Raghuvesh.

Jahaan se niraala, manmeet mera

She watched as Divya Ma’am looked in Arnav’s direction and winked. She ignored the sharp pinch of jealousy and resolved to focus on the feeling of being amidst melody again.

Main aawaaz hoon toh, tu hai geet mera,

Jahaan se niraala, manmeet mera

Mil jaayein iss tarah

This time the entire group including Khushi clapped with the song and Nishant-Sir’s den echoed with celebration.

Do lehrein jiss tarah

The clap repeated itself in joy.

Mil jaayein iss tarah

Do lehrein jiss tarah

Phir ho na judaa, haan yeh vaada raha.

“Why did they ever murder this song with that ridiculous remix video?” Nishant Kumar Pathak said with feeling as the song

Khushi made a face as she recollected the abomination that the video in question was. Why songs needed remixing at all she wouldn’t understand.

“Divya Madam” Raghuvesh called, brushing aside the intruding conversation, “Change song, same cue.”

Khushi allowed her mind to search through her index of songs even as she saw Divya looked around with a half-impish smile, clearly trying to come up with the right song.

“Huh?” She said, forcing Khushi to look at her only to see Arnav miming something at her. Before she could catch his elusive gaze or realize what had happened, Divya Ma’am was already chuckling beside her and saying, “It’s not exactly fair. But we’ll make an exception for you.” She winked at Arnav again, “As a super special favor, okay?”

Khushi missed the completely uncharacteristic color that was fighting up Arnav’s throat. How could she have paid attention to him when the music had already hinted at the song that Divya had chosen?

 

 

As the older woman teased the playful alaap, Khushi’s own face burned and without thought she glanced at Arnav. That he was once again chuckling to himself without meeting her gaze confirmed his complicity in…rather provocation of what was being unveiled.

Kitne bhi tu karle sitam

Hans-hans ke sahenge hum

Yeh pyaar na hoga kam

Sanam teri kasam

Ho.. Sanam teri kasam

Haan haan sanam teri kasam

Khushi was left gobsmacked as Divya sang, her voice replete with the light-hearted earnestness of the song. Which, she had to acknowledge, was an answer to the song he had found her singing this morning. And if that was not enough, it was not Divya who sang the stanza.

It was Arnav.

Mana ke khata meri hai

Par itni saza na de tu

Le paiyaan padoon tere sajna

Ab to gale laga le tu

The entire room burst out in laughter as some people whistled and cheered Arnav for choosing to sing the female lyrics. Every word uttered in teasing, made her want to get up and grab his collar and shake him. What was he doing?

Ho mana ke khata meri hai

Par itni saza na de tu

Le paiyaan padoon tere sajna

Ab to gale laga le tu

Tere dam se hai mera dam

Sanam teri kasam

Ha ha.. Sanam teri kasam

Ho.. sanam teri kasam

Divya clapped and joined right in as they both sang together now. Khushi could do little but stare at Arnav, her gaze refusing to slide away as questions reeled into millions of mixed tapes in her head.

Aise hi roothke mujhse, he sang looking finally straight at her.

Ab aur kahan jaayega.

Aahon mein asar hoga toh

Tu laut ke phir aayega

Tu hai to kya hai gham

Sanam teri kasam

Everyone around her burst out into instantaneous applause as the song ended. Khushi looked around, her mind buzzing with energy she could define. What was she supposed to do? What had he just…

“AV” Nishant called out as the volume in the den receded. “Kishore, Dev Anand.”

“NK,” Jeet groaned. “Haven’t you heard the story? The man will pick Phoolon Ka Taaron Ka…out of pure nostalgia.”

Once again, laughter broke around her as she allowed her eyes to roam around in an effort to silence her overly zealous heart. The words from the song he had just sung were still ringing her head even if the part of her that was still present in the present ached to point out that she loved the song Jeet had just dissed.

“And someone please flip to modern times, na?” Lakshmi, Raghuvesh’s wife of more than half a decade who was not much of a singer but clearly a part of this group by extension, said.

“Awesome,” Jeet approved. “Pritam, AV.”

Many others, Khushi included, reacted fairly negatively to the selection but clearly Arnav had no such qualms. If anything, he looked almost smug about having been given the cue that seemed to be so unpopular.

“My favorite?” Divya Ma’am asked from beside her and Arnav looked at her for a second before looking at Khushi. “Mine” He said softly as he struck the chord on his guitar, drawing Khushi’s reluctant gaze with impressive efficiency. Divya Ma’am whistled on her left but by then Arnav’s strumming had clued Khushi in to stunned silence. Again.

“Harmonica,” He said to someone without taking his eyes off Khushi. Immediately the tune she recognized and loved, rare as it was, filled her veins.

 

 

Baatein kuch ankahi si, kuch ansuni si, hone lagin

Kaabu dil per aha na, hasti hamaari, khone lagi

Woah, oho ho ho

Woah, oho ho ho

Shaayad yahi hai pyaar

Shaayad yahi hai pyaar

As the harmonica played again, Khushi’s body revolted in response. Her eyes glimmered, her chest threatened to explode and her fingers tingled as she crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted him to look at Divya Ma’am and sing so that it would confirm her suspicions. And yet, it was as if nothing and no one else mattered. He looked at her as the words floated through the air between them and knocked at her heart. Not again, she pleaded as they sought entrance. Once a long time ago and then again were two times too many. She couldn’t…

Keh de mujhse, dil mein kya hai

Aisa bhi kya guroor?

Pride? She wanted to laugh out aloud. Did she have any that he teased her so? What else could she have said?

Tujh ko bhi toh ho raha hai,

Thoda asar zaroor?

Yeh khaamoshi, jeene na de

Koi toh baat ho

The group around them broke into the yoodling interlude and a few folks started a slow clap, mimicking the rhythm of his strumming and the drums beating as softly as her heart.

Baatein kuch ankahi si, kuch ansuni si, hone lagin, the entire group including Divya Ma’am sang. Khushi felt her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth as the words tumbled in her mouth. She always sang along with this song. And now…She looked up at Arnav again and found his eyes still trained on her as if saying “You”

Kaabu dil per aha na, hasti hamaari, khone lagi

Woah, oho ho ho

Woah, oho ho ho

Shaayad yahi hai pyaar

Shaayad yahi hai pyaar

The harmonica played again as Arnav’s eyes lowered and his hands stilled over the strings for a second before he looked up again.

Tu hi meri, roshni hai

Tu hi chiraag hai

Dheere dheere, mit jaayega, halka sa daag hai, he promised to her and her alone.

Yeh zeher bhi, yun piyaa hai

Jaise sharaab ho

Woah, oho ho ho

Woah, oho ho ho

Shaayad yahi hai pyaar

The song ended as everyone around clapped and continued. She couldn’t get up and run. There was nowhere to go now. She couldn’t stay and swoon. Her heart wouldn’t survive this time. So she stayed and smiled. And clapped along with everyone. And thanked him silently when he decided to tear his gaze away and excused himself instead.

River Song, Music and Lyrics

Song Title: Uthe Sab Ke Kadam

Album: Baaton Baaton Mein

Singers: Lata Mangeshkar, Amit Kumar, Pearl Padamsee

Music: Rajesh Roshan

Lyrics: Amit Khanna

 

Notes:

1. Next Update: Monday, May 22, 2017 – Between 10-11 p.m. IST
2. A little something from the non fan-fiction world if you are interested: Wonderings