“What the hell is this?” I shouted, losing my cool. My driver, heavily perspiring even in the air conditioned car, tried to regain his composure. I cannot blame him. He is just eighteen, having the first drive with his boss (that’s me) in the jam-packed roads of Delhi. To add to the already existing turmoil, we have a pregnant lady in the back seat. No, she is not my wife!
Who is she, you ask ? Well, I don’t know. I could have asked my driver to get to know her details from the purse she was carrying, but advancing onto someone else’s personal details, no matter what the situation, was against my principles.
A short while ago, my driver noticed that the ambulance which was carrying her, collided with a truck — both are known for rushing at maddening speeds. He rushed to the scene to find her in need of help and we are playing good Samaritan. Once in our car, we notice she is bleeding ; I am unsure of what to do. I touched her hand, checked her pulse — it’s normal. Thank God ! I am no doctor. IAS officials like me, hardly know the difference between veins and arteries.
For ten years, I had not touched a woman. The last time I did.., she was my life. I still remember those days ever so vividly..
The twenty year old Sharad, hastily cleaned his room. His speaking watch had just announced that it was five.., and when the clock strikes five, don’t ask what happens to Sharad. It had been a ritual for three years…This was the last year of his graduation. The last year of five-o-clock-stirrups! He went to the mirror and blindly stood there, imagining how he looked. He could only imagine, he was blind.
Sharad did not blame his life for his blindness. Ten years ago, when he was 10, he had lost his eyesight in a major accident. From then on, he had drowned himself in books, books and more books. Considered to be a prodigy, this chap landed in one of the best institutes of India and was currently in St. Stephens’, pursuing his third year of Economics Honors. Sounds pretty tough ? Well, I already said, he was a prodigy. This man of majestic intellect never allowed his “visually handicapped tag” to hamper his endeavors and accept things as they were — life had taught him not to judge..
Though he would not judge, Sharad often felt people and life, had not only judged him, but passed the verdict as well. He felt he lacked in at least one sphere of life — the love life. And this major sphere revolved around Priya. He had known her right from the very first say when she came in to lecture one of his evening classes. She made him read, write and learn. While people empathized with Sharad, Priya used to make fun of him, tease him and challenge him. All because she never felt that he was different from her.
“Hey Shady( God knows why women cannot pronounce real names!), there’s only a month left for the exams, would you teach me the last chapter, yaar.” She said, taking a seat next to him. Well, if you are wondering “Isn’t she the teacher ?” and this situation seems transposed, don’t get confused, you still have that correct. Priya was Sharad’s teacher no doubt, but a childish one. She taught him the chapters only once and from then on, she tested, examined and strengthened this prodigy by asking him to teach her.
For Priya, Sharad was an inspiration, a magic that had happened in her life which gave her strength. When she cried on missing her parents, she saw Sharad, who had no one to support him and consoled herself. When she cried after she remembered her first love who cheated her, she saw Sharad, as he hardly had anyone who loved him, but was still at peace. No matter, how big a thing was or how small the situation, she looked at Sharad for support — he was her silent mentor.
For three years, Sharad was more than a best friend to her. She hated the rigid professionalism in people. She found a true listener in Sharad who never judged her and was always a phone call away. It never meant that she had to talk substance with him ; any frivolous issue and Sharad always entertained it. He would laugh at her PJs, call her to wake her up and always made sure she was enjoying life.
Sharad had a handsome face, but he was hardly aware of. He could snatch away the hearts of hundreds of girls, but Priya hardly knew that she was his love. She dreaded unsure how he would react if he knew the soft corner she had for him for Sharad had never respond to her small kisses. It was his daily gift, whenever he did well; he was blessed with Priya’s warmth. Priya came closer to him and embraced him lightly “Never be sad…Sharad! I know the world sees you the way you appear. I can look inside and tell your sorrows, your failures, you sadness.” For these three years, if Sharad felt he was something, it was all because of Priya. It was a different feeling for Sharad that someone who had eyes, did not look on his face value but scrutinized him deep down.
After some more affectionate words, she bid her adieu. Sharad was still seated. In every Hindi movie that he had heard of, the heroine kissed and embraced only when she loved the hero. He smiled at this innocently stupid conviction and got up. He never wanted Priya to love him. He simply did not deserve her.
At night, he found out that Priya had left her purse. He immediately called her up to confirm that he had not ransacked it. While he was touching the warmth of it, Anubhav, his closest friend entered.”Hey, you must have mugged the entire syllabus man. Hey…wait a minute..” He said, snatching away the purse.”Please Anubhav, leave it” ordered Sharard, not wanting anyone to touch it.
“I have seen guys..flirting with 3-4 girls at a time. You never had a past. You love Priya like hell. Even she likes you..What’s the problem man?” questioned Anubhav, sounding indifferent to the reality of situation. He had secretly seen the contents — it contained Sharad’s photograph…
“I am not strong enough to protect her. Love is a promise, a sacred commitment. I don’t deserve an angel like her. She will find a guy, get married and have normal kids. With me, she cannot be guaranteed of any of those…” revealed Sharad, a decision which he had taken right from the moment he fell in love with Priya. It sounded more like a recorded version of the lines which kept playing in his mind. Anubhav knew that he could not convince him and relented.
Days passed! He waited for her, her tenderness, her smiles, and her voice. He wanted her to feel that she was an important part of his life. Then, the last day came. Priya did not knock, she tiptoed in and kept watching Sharad, who was holding the cards she had given.
“Sharad” She spoke and went silent. Sharad grew attentive, figuring out the direction of the voice.”Sharad, I just came today … you know, it’s our last day ..I am leaving for home tomorrow.. Sharad, I will miss you deeply…I cannot accept that three years are over and…” She broke into tears. Sharad searched all over in the room, found his crying angel and made her sit next to him. He could not say a word… It was the last time, he had held her hand. They sat in silence..
After Priya left for her home that day, Sharad had changed his number. He had resolved not to contact Priya till he was a successful man. He hoped that Priya would wait for him as well.Years passed by. He studied, studied and studied! He cracked UPSC after completing his graduation in Economics. He had been in so much news. People, who hardly knew about him earlier, now praised him that his administrative qualities were not limited to his sight.
Now a successful man, Sharad was planning to meet Priya. But as he was gearing himself up, Anubhav had called with the bad news. The news that she was married by now. Sharad had fought with the pain. Every night, he had dreamt of meeting Priya, revealing that he had done the impossible and not let his handicap limit him. But she had left him, just as he had left her. He could not blame her though. Life had taught him!
Suddenly the sounds of blaring horns brought me back to reality from my past. I touched the driver, who was now calm. “Sir, the hospital has come.”Dauntless energy dominated over me. I quickly got out of the car …the driver and me, held the lady. As I was a known figure, the entire functioning was very quick. The stretcher came, the best doctor was called, the lady was taken to the ICU and I, with my driver, sat outside.”Sir, do you want me to drop you home? You have been really tired.” He asked. I chose to remain silent and smiled. After a few hours, which seemed like infinity, the doctor came.
I perhaps heard the cry of a new born baby — thank you god ! The lives were saved. The nurse bought the child to me. The lady was resting. I touched the small boy, hardly more than my palm.”What would her mother name him?” I asked, still feeling the warmth of a baby. I had never touched babies before.”I think, Sharad, as she had a chit in her purse, in which she had circled this name.” revealed the nurse. I smiled. There was a tender connection I felt with the child.
After a while, I headed out. When I reached home, Anubhav’s missed call was waiting for me. As I waited for the voice mail to come thru, I engrossed myself with dusting the book rack, throwing away unwanted papers — crumpling each with my hands and throwing them at the bin in the corner “Hey Sharad…guess what, Priya is in Delhi. She is finally gonna have a baby…man! Imagine, your Priya…who herself was such a child…I cannot believe it man. But she deserves all this…perhaps the new life will be her courage!” Tears of joy stormed my eyes. I was happy for her and her husband..
Who is she, you ask ? Well, I don’t know. I could have asked my driver to get to know her details from the purse she was carrying, but advancing onto someone else’s personal details, no matter what the situation, was against my principles.
A short while ago, my driver noticed that the ambulance which was carrying her, collided with a truck — both are known for rushing at maddening speeds. He rushed to the scene to find her in need of help and we are playing good Samaritan. Once in our car, we notice she is bleeding ; I am unsure of what to do. I touched her hand, checked her pulse — it’s normal. Thank God ! I am no doctor. IAS officials like me, hardly know the difference between veins and arteries.
For ten years, I had not touched a woman. The last time I did.., she was my life. I still remember those days ever so vividly..
The twenty year old Sharad, hastily cleaned his room. His speaking watch had just announced that it was five.., and when the clock strikes five, don’t ask what happens to Sharad. It had been a ritual for three years…This was the last year of his graduation. The last year of five-o-clock-stirrups! He went to the mirror and blindly stood there, imagining how he looked. He could only imagine, he was blind.
Sharad did not blame his life for his blindness. Ten years ago, when he was 10, he had lost his eyesight in a major accident. From then on, he had drowned himself in books, books and more books. Considered to be a prodigy, this chap landed in one of the best institutes of India and was currently in St. Stephens’, pursuing his third year of Economics Honors. Sounds pretty tough ? Well, I already said, he was a prodigy. This man of majestic intellect never allowed his “visually handicapped tag” to hamper his endeavors and accept things as they were — life had taught him not to judge..
Though he would not judge, Sharad often felt people and life, had not only judged him, but passed the verdict as well. He felt he lacked in at least one sphere of life — the love life. And this major sphere revolved around Priya. He had known her right from the very first say when she came in to lecture one of his evening classes. She made him read, write and learn. While people empathized with Sharad, Priya used to make fun of him, tease him and challenge him. All because she never felt that he was different from her.
“Hey Shady( God knows why women cannot pronounce real names!), there’s only a month left for the exams, would you teach me the last chapter, yaar.” She said, taking a seat next to him. Well, if you are wondering “Isn’t she the teacher ?” and this situation seems transposed, don’t get confused, you still have that correct. Priya was Sharad’s teacher no doubt, but a childish one. She taught him the chapters only once and from then on, she tested, examined and strengthened this prodigy by asking him to teach her.
For Priya, Sharad was an inspiration, a magic that had happened in her life which gave her strength. When she cried on missing her parents, she saw Sharad, who had no one to support him and consoled herself. When she cried after she remembered her first love who cheated her, she saw Sharad, as he hardly had anyone who loved him, but was still at peace. No matter, how big a thing was or how small the situation, she looked at Sharad for support — he was her silent mentor.
For three years, Sharad was more than a best friend to her. She hated the rigid professionalism in people. She found a true listener in Sharad who never judged her and was always a phone call away. It never meant that she had to talk substance with him ; any frivolous issue and Sharad always entertained it. He would laugh at her PJs, call her to wake her up and always made sure she was enjoying life.
Sharad had a handsome face, but he was hardly aware of. He could snatch away the hearts of hundreds of girls, but Priya hardly knew that she was his love. She dreaded unsure how he would react if he knew the soft corner she had for him for Sharad had never respond to her small kisses. It was his daily gift, whenever he did well; he was blessed with Priya’s warmth. Priya came closer to him and embraced him lightly “Never be sad…Sharad! I know the world sees you the way you appear. I can look inside and tell your sorrows, your failures, you sadness.” For these three years, if Sharad felt he was something, it was all because of Priya. It was a different feeling for Sharad that someone who had eyes, did not look on his face value but scrutinized him deep down.
After some more affectionate words, she bid her adieu. Sharad was still seated. In every Hindi movie that he had heard of, the heroine kissed and embraced only when she loved the hero. He smiled at this innocently stupid conviction and got up. He never wanted Priya to love him. He simply did not deserve her.
At night, he found out that Priya had left her purse. He immediately called her up to confirm that he had not ransacked it. While he was touching the warmth of it, Anubhav, his closest friend entered.”Hey, you must have mugged the entire syllabus man. Hey…wait a minute..” He said, snatching away the purse.”Please Anubhav, leave it” ordered Sharard, not wanting anyone to touch it.
“I have seen guys..flirting with 3-4 girls at a time. You never had a past. You love Priya like hell. Even she likes you..What’s the problem man?” questioned Anubhav, sounding indifferent to the reality of situation. He had secretly seen the contents — it contained Sharad’s photograph…
“I am not strong enough to protect her. Love is a promise, a sacred commitment. I don’t deserve an angel like her. She will find a guy, get married and have normal kids. With me, she cannot be guaranteed of any of those…” revealed Sharad, a decision which he had taken right from the moment he fell in love with Priya. It sounded more like a recorded version of the lines which kept playing in his mind. Anubhav knew that he could not convince him and relented.
Days passed! He waited for her, her tenderness, her smiles, and her voice. He wanted her to feel that she was an important part of his life. Then, the last day came. Priya did not knock, she tiptoed in and kept watching Sharad, who was holding the cards she had given.
“Sharad” She spoke and went silent. Sharad grew attentive, figuring out the direction of the voice.”Sharad, I just came today … you know, it’s our last day ..I am leaving for home tomorrow.. Sharad, I will miss you deeply…I cannot accept that three years are over and…” She broke into tears. Sharad searched all over in the room, found his crying angel and made her sit next to him. He could not say a word… It was the last time, he had held her hand. They sat in silence..
After Priya left for her home that day, Sharad had changed his number. He had resolved not to contact Priya till he was a successful man. He hoped that Priya would wait for him as well.Years passed by. He studied, studied and studied! He cracked UPSC after completing his graduation in Economics. He had been in so much news. People, who hardly knew about him earlier, now praised him that his administrative qualities were not limited to his sight.
Now a successful man, Sharad was planning to meet Priya. But as he was gearing himself up, Anubhav had called with the bad news. The news that she was married by now. Sharad had fought with the pain. Every night, he had dreamt of meeting Priya, revealing that he had done the impossible and not let his handicap limit him. But she had left him, just as he had left her. He could not blame her though. Life had taught him!
Suddenly the sounds of blaring horns brought me back to reality from my past. I touched the driver, who was now calm. “Sir, the hospital has come.”Dauntless energy dominated over me. I quickly got out of the car …the driver and me, held the lady. As I was a known figure, the entire functioning was very quick. The stretcher came, the best doctor was called, the lady was taken to the ICU and I, with my driver, sat outside.”Sir, do you want me to drop you home? You have been really tired.” He asked. I chose to remain silent and smiled. After a few hours, which seemed like infinity, the doctor came.
I perhaps heard the cry of a new born baby — thank you god ! The lives were saved. The nurse bought the child to me. The lady was resting. I touched the small boy, hardly more than my palm.”What would her mother name him?” I asked, still feeling the warmth of a baby. I had never touched babies before.”I think, Sharad, as she had a chit in her purse, in which she had circled this name.” revealed the nurse. I smiled. There was a tender connection I felt with the child.
After a while, I headed out. When I reached home, Anubhav’s missed call was waiting for me. As I waited for the voice mail to come thru, I engrossed myself with dusting the book rack, throwing away unwanted papers — crumpling each with my hands and throwing them at the bin in the corner “Hey Sharad…guess what, Priya is in Delhi. She is finally gonna have a baby…man! Imagine, your Priya…who herself was such a child…I cannot believe it man. But she deserves all this…perhaps the new life will be her courage!” Tears of joy stormed my eyes. I was happy for her and her husband..
In all my happiness, there was an unsaid agony — the agony of a blind man, one who cannot see the big things of his life. Like the crumbled paper near the bin which read..” Dear Sharad, Yaar, I don’t know how to break this news.. I tried calling you, but all in vain. I hope, your secretary reads this letter for you…Yaar… Priya’s husband is no more! He died in a plane crash 2 days back. It had been two years to their marriage and..I cannot pen down further, Priya is totally shattered and she is pregnant. Please save her yaar, leave your philosophies. She needs you. I know that she still loves you, just as you do. Yours Anubhav.”
1 comment:
very well written story. u seem 2 b very much influenced by ur vicinity. gud yaar!!!! a very tender end indeed:-)
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