He picked his jacket
in a jiffy, as he thought it might rain; leapt onto his bike and zipped away
through the curvy lane, much like Valentino Rossi; but his throttle was
slightly decelerated when he started to think of where he was headed and why he
was going to meet her, yet again.
It was end of
May and the arid, dusty breeze was making him feel nauseated. He didn’t really want
to meet her, but hoped that all was well with her. What could be so ‘urgent’ now
that she had to call him up and deprive him of his evening siesta? And why had
she called him asking to meet NOW on the hillock neighboring the station? And why
in the world had she called HIM to meet at all?
After all, he
was reminded of same place and time two summers back and how barely he had
managed to escape abasement, on the last day before she was to leave for
college – to study for two years.
“I love
…” he started, pausing immediately. Her face had turned curious and he already had
second thoughts on continuing further. He found his tiny little bundle of courage,
suddenly amiss.
“What?” she asked interrogatively, fiddling
with her touch-screen mobile, connoting she wasn’t attentive.
“Nothing”, he nodded, staring at her touch-screen
mobile, which seemed more important to her than his talk and then quickly
fixing his gaze at the mango tree behind her.
“Maybe now is NOT the right time”, he said to
himself, for the umpteenth time.
“I just wanted to know if the train is still departing
on time.” she said, explaining what she was checking on her mobile. She was to
be away for two years for further studies.
“Ok. So?” he asked.
“So what?” she asked with her eyebrows,
creating a prominent twirl between them.
“So, is it leaving on time?” he asked,
completing his question.
“Yes, it’s leaving in another 15 minutes.” she
answered with a measured smile. “So, what were you gabbling? Ahh, yes, something
about love, right? So, what do you love, chum? Have you found a girl already?”
she asked mockingly.
There are some things which one just doesn’t
realize on one’s own, until someone else makes one think.
He was thinking – the word ‘chum’ had just
about woken him from his haze. And, she was referring to another girl!
He looked at her, almost dumbstruck.
The kink between her eyebrows, now, longer than
before, made him realize that he still had to answer her question – what did he
love! He had to answer fast and more so, he had to answer sensibly!
“No, I
was just saying that … I love to eat mangoes. In fact, I just love this
season.” he completed, pronouncing rhetorically that he liked mangoes.
“Yes, I wish this season never ends. Why does a
season change at all?” she queried.
“Well, I don’t know, but they do. But, you
know what, while each season has its own charm, what I find most amusing is the
transition from one season to another. The same goes with people as well,
right? They change.” He paused. “However, transition is something that we
always miss and follow only once something has happened. Well, I’ve failed to
understand it as yet, but I’d like to understand transition and ‘feel’ it.”
The kink between her eyebrows had now
disappeared, but her eyes had now bulged in bewilderment, still posing the same
question – ‘What?!’
“So, how
often do we acknowledge the foggy feeling at the end
of the monsoons; or perhaps, the mildly itchy feeling just before the summer; or
the calm yet vivacious feeling at the end of the summer, just before the
beginning of the rains?” He wasn’t finished “Or, how do you like to have a watermelon in an early winter or maybe
mangoes in the early rains, or even better, in the rains?!”
He was answering fast, but clearly only
slightly sensibly. She was perhaps now getting a sense of where the
conversation was heading to – NOWHERE!
“You still haven’t answered me. So, what do
you love?” she asked again as he plucked a mango from the mango tree behind her
and they strolled onward to the station.
“I love eating mangoes – in the rain!” He concluded,
justifying his verbose gibber.
“We should have it once.” he continued in a
recommending voice as he thumped her heavy bag onto her seat and bade her,
perhaps, a final good-bye. He would probably never see her again, or never want
to see her again. He was losing her forever, he thought. It’s probably the last
that I’m going to even think of her.
The town seemed
to pass away in a blur in the alternating tree-shadows flanking the constricted
road leading to the hillock. He was to meet her after two years. Did he
remember how she looked? Did he remember how she sounded?
He saw her again
in a quick glimpse.
She was flanked by her suitcases, meaning she had maybe just arrived. She was posing
at him and offering her dimpled smile, as
she always used to.
His heart skipped
a beat.
She looked exactly
the same, as from his last memory.
Silky black hair,
which had now grown longer; dimpled fair cheek, which turned rosy-pink
when she laughed and tomato-red when she got angry; her magnetizing eyes, whose colour he wasn't
able to figure out, brownish-green when she smiled and greenish-blue when she’d give him a jagging look, when he’d
playfully un-clip her hair disturbing her otherwise effortless coif.
He certainly didn’t
see her as a ‘chum’.
“Is all ok?” he questioned, twitching his eyes, as the dusty winds
blew into his face, probably signalling the oncoming of a drizzle. But, more so,
he was searching for answers for disturbing his evening-siesta.
“You still haven’t
answered me. What do you love?” She asked.
She remembered
their last conversation, he realised.
“Didn’t I tell
you, I love eating mangoes in the rain!” He smiled, implying that even he
remembered their last conversation. “But, why are you so caught up on it? Don’t
you have anything else to start a conversation? Perhaps, a decent boy you met
while you’ve been away?”
“Well, yes, we can
talk about that too.” she responded promptly. “I’m actually here to tell you something.
Well,I love …” she paused
“Mmm, what do you
love?” he asked, trying to be stoical.
“Even I love
eating mangoes in the rain.” she smiled.
“Good, didn’t I say
you should try it once?” He said reticently, plucking a mango from the tree.
"And I also
love the boy very much, who told me that he loves to eat mangoes in the rain,
some two years ago!"
She kissed his
lips, hugged him tight and hid her face in his jacket.
The rains had
arrived!
