Just the Way You Are Read online

  ‘Mom, not again.’ And ignoring her emotional blackmail, I left the house.

  It was twilight. The library wasn’t too far off but I would still take my car. However, today I avoided it deliberately. The weather was lovely and a cool breeze was blowing as it had rained that day. I enjoyed the stroll to the library.

  It was almost empty. Perhaps people had avoided it because of the rain and now might be out for some refreshment in this weather. I submitted my old books and moved towards the fiction section.

  Though I am a practical man, sometimes remaining in the fictional world brings me solace. It felt good that everything happened in books in a planned manner and at a slow pace. The lives in books were definitely utopic but to read about them brought me some sort of peace. I hardly touched romantic books in the fear that I would remain partnerless unlike in the book. Even in such an unreal world, the hero always found someone for himself, so I deliberately avoided such books.

  ‘Huh. Not a single good book in the library,’ I said to myself. As it had been quite a long time since my last visit, I was expecting something good. I moved towards the other racks.

  This was when I saw Shagun. I had first seen her at the orphanage in Shimla and had instantly known that it wasn’t going to be a one-time affair. Something inside me urged me to believe that she was perhaps the one I was looking for, that she was my soulmate, as Gaurav would say. But I couldn’t muster up the courage to approach her. My shyness or my past heartbreak equally dried up my spirits.

  I quietly returned to my room.

  Office kept me busy. Client meetings, presentations, conferences consumed my entire mind and when I returned to my room, I was completely drained.

  Thoughts of Shagun didn’t come to me even once in the daytime, but at night, when I lay in my bed, my mind was uneasy. Even in this state of tiredness, sleep seemed an alien to me. My mind started playing tricks on me, and all of a sudden her face flashed in front of my eyes, first as a blurry image slowly taking shape and, after a minute, clear as water.

  It almost jolted me out of bed, and I ran out onto the balcony, cursing myself for not approaching her. I looked into the darkness. A night lamp illuminated the street. A beggar took his shelter under it. There was no one to be seen. The night seemed much darker to me now.

  I came inside the room and looked at my watch. 2 am. There was still time to morning.

  I pushed myself onto the bed again. Now I decided that tomorrow might be the day. At that moment, a feeling of peace and contentment took over me. I slept as if I hadn’t slept for ages.

  I woke up at 7 am. It was the most peaceful slumber I had ever had. The morning looked brighter. Perhaps because it was a new morning for me.

  I ran to the library again with a new sense of joy. I didn’t know whether I would find her there. But I was happy. As I entered, I saw her at once in the same place as the day before.

  I was agape and for the very first time, happy at my luck. Wow, she is here, I said to myself. I kept staring at her face. I didn’t know what to say. In fact, I wasn’t able to believe my eyes.

  I slowly went towards her. A new courage began to wake up inside me. My past failures, my shyness, everything seemed to have been knocked out from me at once.

  I sat at the table next to her. She pushed her book a bit, tilted her eyes, and looked at me suspiciously. Then she resumed reading.

  I bent forward and adjusted my chair and then, in an attempt to ensure a conversation, coughed. She again looked at me in the same way, and resumed reading.

  ‘Which book are you reading?’ I finally asked.

  She put the book on the table at once, looked at me suspiciously again, then as if she had known me for years.

  ‘This one. It’s Midnight’s Children by …’ she said and I interrupted her.

  ‘Yes, by Salman Rushdie.’

  ‘Oh. You know it. Have you read this book?’

  ‘Umm. Thrice …’

  ‘Thrice! I mean, you liked it so much?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  She said melodramatically, ‘Appearances might be deceptive but I feel that I have seen you before.’

  ‘Where?’ I was surprised.

  ‘At the orphanage. Aren’t you the guy who donated a lot of money last month? You must be a man of good fortune and heart.’ She smiled.

  ‘Why were you there?’ I was intrigued.

  ‘I like to go there once in a while,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a library. I think we can’t talk here. We should go outside.’ I pointed towards the board which mentioned silence.

  ‘I stay nearby. Not very far from the library. Do come over someday,’ she said, and began to get up.

  I too got up, and we moved towards the exit.

  It was evening when I knocked at her door. For the last few hours it had been raining incessantly. It seemed as if the sky would start pelting stones in a few hours, if at all the rain continued. It drummed on the roof of my car and the car groaned. Water gushed into its pipes. When the driver started it, it jerked two to three times, picked up speed, and jumped, and suddenly stopped by itself. I asked the driver to get out and have a look. He looked at me with a hostile expression before climbing out and slamming the door, as if I were treating him like a slave. This morning in office I was contemplating on meeting Shagun. It was days since I had seen her, after the episode with the Salman Rushdie book in her hands. I should have talked more with her. I should have told her about the plot and how India’s political history excites me! I kept looking out of the window with the rain beating against it. For some time I was afraid of it not stopping and of missing my chance at meeting her today. My colleagues, who were observing me acutely, mocked me, knowing the truth.

  ‘Is there anything coming through the rain? A pigeon or something carrying a letter for you through this window?’ one of them asked.

  I laughed at his remark. ‘Pigeons nowadays don’t carry letters,’ I said, and continued, ‘No. I am waiting for this rain to stop. I have to go somewhere.’ It was my good luck that it stopped raining after some time. I hurriedly left the office.

  But my luck didn’t stand. The rain picked up again halfway and the car was giving up. Her house was just a kilometre away. I could surely walk but by the time I’d reach I would be sloshed. I told the driver to wait till the rain stopped and then to find a mechanic nearby. It started raining harder as I sat there waiting. After a few minutes, I decided to sprint. I had a plastic bag into which I wrapped my mobile phone and ran towards her place. After I had rung the bell twice, she opened the door.

  She looked fresh, untouched by the beating water. Panting and holding my breath, I said, ‘Hi.’ Shagun seemed a bit surprised to see me completely drenched and dripping. She replied, ‘Hi. What happened? Why are you drenched?’

  ‘Ah, don’t ask. It’s nothing but my bad luck. My broke down and it’s been raining so heavily. So I ran.’

  ‘But you could have taken shelter somewhere for a while, maybe under a tree or at bus stop. What’s the point of this? You could get cold or fever.’

  ‘Oh yes. Sorry. I forgot about that. But how could I be late? I told you that I would meet you at 6.30 and I am here,’ I made a cute excuse.

  She smiled at me. ‘So punctual.’

  ‘Yes. I forgot to tell you, “Punctual” is my middle name.’ She laughed at me.

  ‘If you allow me, can I come inside and then you can scold me. Your neighbours are looking at me. What would they think about you?’

  ‘Okay, okay. Come inside. Get dry first. There’s a blue towel in the bathroom here. Take that. I’ll make you some coffee.’ She hurried towards the kitchen.

  ‘That’s really nice of you. Thank you!’ I exclaimed.

  I went into the bathroom, picked up the towel, and wiped my clothes with it. I then came into the drawing room, trying in vain to soak up the water in my hair and on my face with it. I saw Shagun coming in with a tray laden with two coffee cups and some biscuits.

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nbsp; I sat on the sofa and started flipping through the newspaper kept on the table.

  The coffee was very refreshing. I gulped it down and felt some heat returning to my body. After about half an hour, I said, ‘So, shall we leave now?’

  ‘Yes. I am ready. Just give me a minute. I’ll get my bag.’

  Unlike other girls, and to my surprise, she actually took two minutes. And we both came out.

  My car was already with the mechanic, so we thought would take an auto. But we had to walk for a while before we saw one.

  I thought of striking a conversation but it was too quiet and neither of us made any attempt to break the silence. Which I was beginning not to like anymore. I kept on looking at her, thinking she would say something, but her head was bent low and her eyes were darting over the pebbles on the road. I decided to keep mum as nothing interesting came to my head. While I was tensely thinking of what to say, she asked me, ‘So where are you taking me? I don’t know much about this place. I shifted here just two months back.’

  I opened my mouth to answer her but when she continued to speak, I stopped myself.

  ‘I have always been scared of this place. Bangalore was pretty cool. But stepping outside after evening is risky in Delhi.’

  ‘Yes, I understand. In fact, though I am a man I too am scared of this place at times. I prefer to return home after office. I do not generally like to loiter around outside if I don’t have any work.’

  She nodded and said, ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  ‘And that was?’ I replied.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Oh. Sorry. That’s a surprise. See, I’ll tell you one thing. I hardly give surprises to anyone. It’s tough for me to digest any surprise; in fact, if someone tells me that there is a surprise for me, I ask them to reveal it to me already. So don’t force me otherwise I would have to tell you. All you need to know is, it’s beautiful. Now you can keep guessing.’

  ‘Yes, but I have to make sure of that. You might turn out to be a rapist. What would I do then?’ she taunted me.

  I said, ‘True enough,’ and laughed.

  We got off the auto and she walked ahead of me in her green kurti, her back straight, a big vanity bag on her shoulder swaying like a pendulum, her high heels and her steps lifting just slightly to the right in a straight line.

  It has always been tough for me to interact with people informally. For the past many months, I had hardly spoken with an woman except for maintaining a professional relationship with female associates in the company. I had even got to hear that I was considered a khadoos in office due to my reserved nature and curt responses. I didn’t bother or mind whatever they assume of me. I didn’t hold any grudge about that. I wasn’t conservative or arrogant but I just didn’t feel the spark with anyone anymore, and flirting with someone unnecessarily was not my habit. But when I saw Shagun at the orphanage I felt something knocking on the old wood of my heart. And now I knew her story. She had grown up there as a child and had never known her parents. She had no idea of where they were and how she had reached the orphanage in the first place. But the caretakers at the orphanage gave her all the love that she deserved and which she thought she would never have. The kind of humility I saw in her filled my heart. She mingled perfectly with the kids and took great pleasure in listening to their stories. Her laughter was unmistakably splendid. To the children, she was as kind and empathetic as a mother. That very moment, I decided that I would be at peace with such a person. Now that I had started talking with her, I slowly let her know that I sought a soulmate, an ideal companion, and that she fulfilled all my requirements, that we had similar interests in music and reading. She did not decline my interest in her. In fact, she too took an interest in me from the very first day.

  ‘Don’t worry. I am not that kind of a guy.’

  ‘So, how many girls have you asked out on this kind of an outing?’ she quipped.

  ‘Umm. Let me count.’

  ‘Count? That’s probably a big achievement.’

  She looked at me. I tried to count speaking aloud.

  ‘One ... one ...’ and for the next few seconds, I kept showing that I was thinking but I wasn’t, really.. One ... that includes you.’

  ‘Yes, I got the final number. It’s one. I mean it’s only you.’ She smiled broadly.

  ‘Okay, leave this. So what’s your story?’

  ‘You know it already. I have never known my parents and at the orphanage they told me that my mother died while giving birth to me and my father met with an accident a year later but then my uncle came to get me to live with his family in Agra ...’

  ‘No, not this one. You’ve already told me this. Your story. What you feel. Your likes and dislikes.’

  ‘I don’t know. No one has asked me about all this earlier. So haven’t given it any thought.’

  ‘Ah, okay. No problem. I have asked you now. So tell me. We have enough time. Don’t tell me you are one of those who keep up with the rat race. It’s disheartening. Because I am one of those people. See how old I have become.’ I tried to lighten the conversation.

  ‘Oh. Then, I’m sorry to say that probably I too belong to this category. In fact, I have also grown old, if we compare ourselves to that young couple out there.’

  She pointed towards a couple behind a tree.

  ‘Well. But I reject your supposition that we have grown that old. Leave this. Tell me about yourself. Think of something you like. Something you do to make yourself happy.’

  ‘I like reading. Reading is fun. It helps me connect with people across the world.’

  ‘That’s true. I also used to read a lot but due to office pressure, I left reading. It has been months since I have read something.’

  ‘Yes, but you should take out some time for it.’

  ‘Sure. What do you like to read?’

  ‘I like fiction, mostly. Though I read some non-fiction as well. But I’m not that much into it.’

  ‘Yes. I can see. Midnight’s Children. Have you finished it?’

  ‘Not yet. I issued it from the library just the day we met there. I started reading it last night. You said you’d read it, right?’

  ‘Thrice …’ but she interrupted me. I like it when someone interrupts me. It shows that the person in front of me is interested in me and my passion.

  ‘Oh wow! That’s nice. You liked it so much that you read it thrice. I like the way the novel begins.’

  ‘No, I tried to read it thrice but couldn’t complete it. The language is so tedious and I couldn’t connect with it. But I have always wanted to read Rushdie’s novels.’

  ‘Oh.’ She felt embarrassed at my confession. ‘So do you write also?’

  ‘No. Not really.’

  ‘Oh. By the way, shall we take an auto again?’

  ‘How far is your surprise from here?’ she asked.

  ‘Not too far. Maximum twenty-minute walk,’ I said.

  ‘Then it’s fine. We’ll walk. I like walking. It’s also stopped drizzling. Is it okay for you?’

  ‘I am okay in every situation.’ I took out some chocolate from my pocket and offered it to her.

  After a moment’s hesitation, she took it. ‘You like chocolate?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, very much. In fact, I carry chocolate with me at all times. Whenever I get irritated or sad, I eat chocolate. It makes me feel good.’

  ‘That’s nice. Then you can’t be a rapist.’ And we both laughed together.

  Soon we reached the place. I excitedly said, ‘Here it is, the famous Rooftop Café.

  She looked surprised and her sparkling eyes revealed her emotion.

  ‘You know the specialty of this place?’ I asked.

  ‘No. I haven’t come here before,’ she said.

  ‘Its specialty is that you can view the beauty of the entire city while sipping on a drink and devouring delicacies. Let’s go in.’

  The doorman saluted and held open the door for us. We entered. I continued, ‘The b
est thing about this restaurant is that you get to watch the whole serene environment from a high point. It’s beautiful and romantic for hopeless lovers!’

  I had already made a reservation for two. The manager showed us to the table. It was on the far side of the roof.

  I pulled out the chair for her. I had learnt that such polite gestures always make girls happy.

  She looked around and said, ‘You are good with your choices.’

  I called the waiter, ‘Could you get me a choco frappe. And what would you like to drink?’

  ‘Hot chocolate.’

  Soon the waiter came up to the table with our drinks. I signalled to him to move away as I didn’t want to lose the moment to serve Shagun her cup.

  ‘Here you go, ma’am. Do you want to sit here or walk till the fence?’

  ‘Let’s walk.’ As we walked towards the fence, she exclaimed, ‘Wow! The view is majestic!’

  ‘This is so amazing. Do you come here often?’ she asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

  I smiled and said, ‘Not really. I have come here twice. The first time, I came with my office colleagues. I liked the restaurant so much that I thought of coming next time with someone special. But there was no one special enough to accompany me. So I came alone.’

  She laughed. ‘I wish I had something even close to it near my place. It’s like the sky blends with the hills. Exquisite!’

  I didn’t want to turn the moment into another evening narrating our story, so suddenly I changed the topic and said, ‘I know. Hey, look at the crescent moon. Isn’t it beautiful? The moon has never failed stir passion into my soul. I always wanted to be an astronaut.’

  ‘Really? Then how did you land up in the sad, bad corporate finance world?’

  ‘Because Kalpana Chawla died.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘Along with her went my dreams.’ I tried to enact a sob, but I sounded awkward and ended up with a false gasp.

  She chuckled at my unsuccessful attempt at acting. I sheepishly said, ‘Okay, enough acting.’

  Shagun, sipping her drink, seemed ignored my confession and said, ‘Do you see that?’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘The pattern. I always trace out patterns in the sky. Look at that big one towards your left. Doesn’t it look like someone’s flying?’