NAYANTARA & NEELANJAN CHAPTER 6

By the time, we both reached the Barista outlet near Mumbai CST Station; it was close to 11.15 pm. The outlet was still functioning in full swing since the stranded were opting for some cups of cappuccino and hot snacks.
Paakhi opened up the conversation.
“We finally reached our destination Abhiroop”, said Paakhi.
I replied, “Yes! Indeed”.
Secretly I wished the journey hadn’t been so smooth and fast.
I would have preferred to walk rather than hire a taxi.
But at that hour of the night and with a female friend, it was just not advisable.
Barista was still serving hot. I could see some foreigners too taking great pleasure in sipping the piped hot coffee.
Paakhi and I stood there speechlessly gazing here and there, thinking whether we could ever get a seat or a corner to just sit down and converse.
I was sure; the night was in no mood to get over smoothly. Our mobile networks had no problems but neither could we make calls nor receive any. I had no problem with that. But Paakhi was concerned.
I asked her, “Paakhi. Is there something I can help you with?”
She replied, “Yes! If you don’t mind, can you please dial this number from your mobile?”
After five minutes, I was struggling with the number Paakhi had handed over to me.
Considering the urgency of the situation, I realized the networks had gone berserk.
“Bad luck Paakhi. I am just not able to get through. Whose number is it any ways?” I asked.
“Its ok Abhiroop, if it’s not reachable there is little that we can do”, she completed.
As I stood there talking to Paakhi, the group of foreigners stood up to leave the place. Like a child wanting to grab the first set of toys accessible, leaving Paakhi behind I pounced upon the table and held on to the chair beside me. After having done that I realized how foolish I was. I had left Paakhi for a seat. But then I realized that we were definitely waiting for a seat to be vacated. I turned back sheepishly and saw Paakhi coming forward with once again a broad smile on her face.
“I am sorry”, I said in an apologetic tone.
“Come on Abhiroop, we had long been waiting to find this seat”, said Paakhi.
But from within, I was feeling that what a foolish impression I must have cast on her. She might have definitely said once silently in her mind that this is a guy who really wants to make things work. I did not want her to know that feelings were developing for her, in my heart. Then I thought, she would find it strange that in the very second meeting I was expressing how obsessively in love I was falling with her.
“Hello! Where are you lost Abhi?” Paakhi asked.
I was hearing my nickname after a span of more than fifteen years. If I am not mistaken, my mother used to call me by my nickname of Abhi. During my growing years in Kolkata, Abhida, Abhir and a hell lot of other unauthorized nicknames had made me become a stranger to my own name. Paakhi was helping me reconnect with the real me.
“Mr. Abhiroop, kee korchee?” asked Paakhi.
I laughed out saying, “Well Paakhi, you mispronounced it.”
“I am so sorry”, she apologized.
I corrected her saying, “You should say Kee Korcho meaning what is you doing or what are you up to?”
Paakhi replied bilingually, “Theek chey, theek achey.”
I found our languages very similar. My mother tongue Bengali was dipped in the sugar syrup of rasogolla and Paakhi’s Gujarati was naturally sugarcoated. The people around us were speaking lot of languages. The clearest I could hear were Hindi and Marathi too. But we were already the unique most of all. It was a typical phenomenon of the Indian East meeting the very much Indian West.
To finally cut the ice, I engineered the communication again but this time in a different way.
“Where is Nayantara? I can’t see her”, I said.
“Neither can I see Neelanjan”, Paakhi replied with a mischievous smile.
“You said, they would follow”, I said.
“Maybe they might have not gone the taxi. We were lucky or do you think we should have offered them a lift!” exclaimed Paakhi.
Our conversation was taking off. As I made up my mind to continue with it, the waiter interrupted in. Paakhi and I placed the initial order of two cappuccinos. We continued with the conversations.
“Where do you work Abhiroop?” asked Paakhi.
I replied, “I work with Culture Mantra, a company that promotes ethnic art of India. I work in their administration department that is located at Nariman Point.”
“You must be joking Abhiroop”, pat came Paakhi’s reply.
I asked, “Why?”
Paakhi said, “I work with them in their creative department that is located at the back of their outlet located in Colaba. I am also an employee of Culture Mantra. And hello hellow, we are meeting for the first time Mr. Abhiroop.”
I was thrilled and excited at the same time apprehensive of what she was saying. The expressions on my face made Paakhi realize that I was finding it difficult to consider it as a fact.
She pulled out her identity card from her purse and asked me, “Now do you believe that we both are working for the same company?”
I was more than pleased. I now knew that Paakhi was somebody I am going to really start liking.
Once again I asked her about Neelanjan and Nayantara.
“I found Neelanjan. See he is drinking coffee”, said Paakhi.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“You are in front of me my Neelanjan. Can’t you see your Nayantara? Can’t you see yourself in her eyes? If you still can’t see what she is seeing then how will you find Neelanjan around”, said Paakhi.
I replied, “Nayantara. You saved my life and you gave me a new life. For years, I had waited for you to come to my life. Where were you so far?”
Smilingly Paakhi replied, “The taxi did take some time to come. But I finally reached where Neelanjan wanted me to.”
“Where is it that Neelanjan wanted you to meet him Nayantara?” I questioned.
“At Barista, on a rainy night, stranded and thinking if we can ever get to go home. Weren’t you thinking that Nayantara should have taken a long walk?” asked Paakhi.
“She did walk with me. But only in imagination”, I replied.
“Not at all Abhiroop. Look around and look carefully, you will see Nayantara. She is real”, said Paakhi.
“I already am seeing you Nayantara”, I completed.

- vociferous

NAYANTARA & NEELANJAN CHAPTER 5

I stood there surprised. But before I could question her any further, she had disappeared in the alleys of the maddening crowd at Churchgate station. I was disappointed. I was feeling incomplete. So I just pushed myself into the madness that I had stood spectator to. I was keen to look out for Nayantara. I knew she tried to hide herself in the crowd but she was still watching me from somewhere. I was not able to see her. I remained sure, she definitely was watching me. I was pushed ahead and I was thrown back. I could have flexed my inactive muscles that had gone cold over a period of years. But I had to maintain my sanity because I was trying to compete alone with the world. I managed to pull myself out and went back to the same position that I was near the book stall. As I stood there trying to catch some fresh breath of air, a hand tapped my shoulder. I responded with frustrated eyes, raised eyebrows and a hint of agitation in my voice that ejected with a, “Hoo”.

I was surprised. It was Nayantara again. She stood their calm. Her gaze managed to calm me down. She just moved forward and asked me, “Neelanjan. Did you hear that announcement?”

I hadn’t heard any. Nayantara made me concentrate on a female voice which said the downpour over the hours had only worsened towards the suburbs. As a result of which, no trains would leave Churchgate till further notice. I looked at my watch and it showed 10.15 pm.

“Calm down”, advised Nayantara.
“I am fine”, I replied.
“Your eyes tell me, you are not able to lie”, remarked Nayantara.
“What do my eyes say?” I asked.
“Hmmm. Well they tell me, you are angry. They tell me, you are very displeased. They also tell me that you were on my quest. And when you found me, I once again disappeared”, said Nayantara in one single breath.
She read my thoughts. She caught the expression of my eyes. I pulled out a kerchief to rub the sweat off my face. But it was just an effort to hide the amusement I was subjected to by Nayantara’s perfect observation of me.
I replied, “I am still angry with you”.
“What for?” she asked.
“Don’t act innocent. You had promised me something and you broke it”, I yelled back.
“You are not supposed to yell Neelanjan. It doesn’t suit you. In fact, look at your face. Anger itself is completely a misfit for your face”, she replied smilingly.
“Thank you for the advice”, I replied back.
“Sorry”, said Nayantara.
I looked at her face. My mind was still flooded with the questions, I wanted to ask her. But her smile just didn’t allow me to do so. She looked the same that she looked the day I first met her at Marine Drive. She stood there calm, composed and confident pleading me to forgive her. I forgave her instantly. I somehow knew I was falling for her.
“You don’t have to be sorry Nayantara”, I told her.
“I am not Nayantara”, she replied back.
“In that case, I am not Neelanjan”, I countered.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to know our real names?” she inquired teasingly.
“Abhiroop Mukherjee”, I gave out my real name.
“Paakhi Seth”, she revealed.
“Paakhi – A bird”, I said amusingly.
“A free bird, you can say who wants to fly high in the sky”, she spoke.
“A bird that knows no boundaries just traverses through continents and loves to meet people rather than species of her own kind”, she added.
“Now this bird is thirsty and is dying to have a cup of cappuccino coffee”, she completed.
“My favorite too”, I added.
“But Neel… Excuse me Abhiroop, the vendors seem to have run out of stock!” exclaimed Paakhi.
“The world has still not run out of cappuccino”, I replied back teasingly.
“Imaginations are turning real?” I asked her.
“We are still in an imagination Neelanjan”, replied Nayantara.
“Are we still in an imagination?” I asked.
“Yes. I am still calling you Neelanjan and you haven’t yet called me by my real name”, she replied.
“But then who is Neelanjan?” I asked.
“He is in you Abhiroop”, replied Paakhi.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Within you, visible to me but not you”, replied Paakhi.
“And who is Nayantara?” I asked.
“She is me but only visible to you Neelanjan”, she replied.
“So what is the difference between imagination and reality?” I asked confusingly.
“Just that in reality you are Abhiroop and I am Paakhi and in imagination you are Neelanjan and I am Nayantara”, she replied calmly.
“What is the next step then?” I asked.
“Café Coffee Day or Barista where we both can converse over a cup of cappuccino”, she replied smilingly.
“What about Nayantara and Neelanjan?” I asked teasingly.
“Taxi!” she waived.
“They will follow us and they will give us company over our conversations”, she concluded.

-vociferous

NAYANTARA & NEELANJAN CHAPTER 4

My life kept moving every day without a halt without a break. But there was sufficient amount of emptiness that left me thinking of Nayantara to just come back once. From the time, she had promised to meet and till date; I expected her to meet me at the same spot. A week passed then a month and some more months. Impatient I was but I was still stubborn to meet her. At times, my heart and my mind seemed to be going their different ways. Sometimes I found it strange to find them both caught in a dilemma as that of mine. But there was no way they could have been different because both the mind and the heart belonged to me. It was in the month of March that I had met Nayantara and today it is the first week of June that I still wish to see her once. If at all she turns up, I am eager to ask her, “Nayantara, How fair it was of you to just betray my trust and cause me so much of disarray?”
My office people once again followed the same routine of paled departures. I just made myself comfortable at one of the windows, the blinds of which Sajjan Singh had left open. I watched out of the window and down the street. The sky above didn’t look good. I felt the monsoons were announcing its arrival. At a distance, I could see the sky turning grey. I realized Mumbai was getting ready for its first round of monsoonal showers. I never hated monsoons. But I neither loved them too. Though people traveled from distant countries to experience monsoons in Mumbai, I never was too fascinated by its tempting seduction. It was close to 7.30 pm, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Sajjan Singh.
“You don’t seem to be in a mood to go home!” exclaimed Sajjan.
Abruptly nodding my head, I walked out of the office and pressed the elevator button. Realizing it would take ages for it to come to a halt on the 10th storey, I made my mind to take a stroll down the staircase. Every floor that I passed stood witness to my dismay over Nayantara having gone missing. Then there were the Romeos & Juliets, the Lailas & the Majnus; adding that something special to their farewells to each others at the end of the day. On reaching the ground floor, I realized I had left my wallet in my office drawer. Luckily the doors of the elevator opened and I just pressed the button that took me straight to my office floor. Sajjan was about to lock the door. I requested him to lend me ten minutes. After I collected my wallet, Sajjan and I once again walked down the stair case. Exiting my office building, I once again walked to the same spot, I had met Nayantara. I settled down to let the calmness of the sea overpower my unpleasant senses. My calmness was short lived. A eunuch just couldn’t tolerate me enjoying the calm. The only solution I could think of was stashing a ten rupee note into its hand. The moment, I did that the eunuch quickly hid it in its blouse. Before it left, it said, “Whatever your heart wishes today, it will come true.” I was simply bowled by the irony of the situation.
Suddenly I felt some water drops settle right down on my shoulders. I looked up and I saw the first of raindrops making me go wet in a matter of 20 seconds. Even though, I tried protecting myself; it was not worth the effort. For the next 30 minutes, it rained like a nightmare. I was sure; Mumbai was under its first ever wet spell. After the rains subsided, I started walking towards Churchgate station. Every one was rushing wet, including me. All were in a hurry, I wasn’t. On reaching Churchgate, I was shocked to see most of the trains were running behind schedule. All the platforms were flooded by people. Every corner was crowded. People were making phone calls and they were looking at the overhead indicators eagerly. The indicators were showing nothing but a series of digital ciphers which at that moment of time only added discomfort to the already out of control situation. Inching backwards, I made myself comfortable near a Wheeler book stall. One side of it being of glass, I found a reason to pass some of my time. I started looking at the books that were beautifully arranged side by side and their titles and their authors. The arrangement was a thoughtful mix of national and international authors. From Chetan Bhagat to Paul Theroux, every one appeared there on an equal dais. At the same time, my ears were on alert to update myself on the announcement of the next possible train. Reports and rumors however confirmed, today’s night was going to be longer.
The first train that was announced after fifty minutes happened to be a Virar local. The crowd barged in uncontrollably. I decided not to take any risks.
I turned back and was about to turn my gaze towards the Wheeler book stall. At a distance, I found a familiar face running breathlessly. Every step she took was careful. From head to toe, she was wet. The expression on her face conveyed that she was worried of being late. The color of her lipstick might have faded but it still carried the traces of the cherry red shade she might have sported the entire day. Her dress was drenched. She was running. Before I could catch a closer glimpse of her, a guy accidentally dashed into her. This led to an accidental fall. Both the guy and the female fell down. In a hurry to escape, the guy just stood and once again got into motion. But the female took some time to recover from the sudden impact. Entire Mumbai was running home so no one seemed to have the time to lend her, a helping hand. Her hair was covering her face. Moved by her helplessness, I went closer to her and gave my hand to her. Without looking at me, she just caught a tight grip of my palm and then my wrist and then my shoulder. She brushed aside her hair which by now had covered her entire face. Her face became visible. The first word that I spoke that evening after leaving office was to her, “Nayantara!”
She looked at me confused. The train that was set to leave the platform blew the horn and ferried away half of the frantic crowd. I was in no mood to pay attention to it.
“You are Nayantara”, I said.
“What?” she asked.
“Remember me?” I questioned back.
“Who are you?” she questioned.
I replied, “I am Abhi… err Neelanjan. I am Neelanjan!”
She looked at me and then said, “I don’t know you Mr. Stranger!”
I was surprised by her denial.
By this time, some people had started gathering around us. Any ways there were a lot many already who were surrounding us.
I was feeling helpless and excited at the same moment.
I realized, I was still holding her hand and I just loosened my grip on her wrist.
She relaxed and pulled out a rubber band from her purse to assemble her open hair.
I just kept looking at her. She readied herself to leave. Just then an announcement was made that no trains would leave the platform till the rains in the suburbs subsided. At that moment, I was the only companion by her side and she was the only company I had.
I once again asked her, “Nayantara, don’t you remember me?”
She replied back, “Imaginations. Are they for real Neelanjan?”

- vociferous