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