Chapter 2
A whirl of colour disrupted his train of thoughts. Aakhil
squinted to spot a butterfly. He offered a smile to it, feeling somewhat mystified. But
he didn’t chase it, like he used to do as a kid. Instead he simply sat there,
admiring the happy-go-lucky creature rapidly flutter its wings, as it flew past
him. However, he had not the slightest idea whatsoever, about how to deal with
the hundreds of crazy butterflies in his stomach.
***
After their first meeting, he didn’t miss a single match
scheduled for the weekends. But he cared very little for the pitch; he had eyes
only for the stands. He remembered how his friends were more than glad to offer
him loads of free advice after their first meeting. One of his friends had
suggested him to slip an ‘I love you’ note or a love letter into the folds of
the jersey before returning it to her. Another friend was quick to see how
ridiculous the idea sounded. ‘What if she doesn’t notice it and drops the
jersey into the washing machine?’ he had asked which was followed by hysterical
laughter from his gang of friends.
But as the days passed, his friends figured out they had
only one in million chances of finding her. They tried to talk him out of this.
But all their preaching fell on the deaf ears for he was driven by the madness of love.
However, after four months, the madness began to wear off,
the practicality started to sink in. He realized that he’s never gone to meet
her ever again. He stopped going to the Chepauk stadium. In fact, he developed
an uncanny aversion for everything related to cricket. He felt depressed than ever…
And he had his share
his nightmares, too. In one of them, he found himself roaming around in the
stands with a torch in one hand and the jersey in the other. In another one, he
spotted her and almost felt her presence. But before she could tell him her
number, she got hit by an army tanker.
After a few months, his friends forced him into joining them
for a cricket match. He decided to give in, but swore to himself that he
wouldn’t search the stands for her; nevertheless he had the jersey in his bag. It
was a T-20 match, but it felt like a test match; it seemed to go on forever. He
never once hollered or yelled, he watched the match silently, almost
lifelessly… His friends began to wish they hadn’t brought him along.
Finally the match ended. India won. But it meant almost
nothing to him. As they prepared to leave, his eyes involuntarily swept over
the stands. He sighed and quickly turned away. But, when they neared the exit of the stadium,
he was in for a shock.
The whole world seemed to go still for a moment. He stood
still too, holding his breath, fearing that even the slightest movement would
dissolve this long awaited moment. No, it was not a dream, not a hallucination
either; she really was standing there, just a few yards away from him, with her
soft, brown, mesmerizing eyes fixed on him, her silky shoulder-length hair tied
in a short ponytail, her skin glowing haughtily in the sunlight.
They stood gazing at each other, not wanting to speak
anything for they knew that the words become useless when the eyes do the
talking. The silence felt divine, it seemed sinful to break it. After quite a
long moment, they did become sinners.
“Hi”, they said in unison and then smiled as they realized how
wonderfully well they voices travelled together. He let his eyes wander over
her. He couldn’t help but notice how she looked much more attractive than the
last time.
Not knowing what to speak next, he turned to his bag. He
could feel Sindhu’s big, eager eyes on his bag as he began searching it for the
jersey. Her face fell when he held out the jersey to her.
“Oh! That jersey…”she told feebly, not trying to hide the
disappointment in her voice.
“Well, I thought you would want to be it as a souvenir”, she
told hesitatingly, with traces of coyness lingering over her lips.
“Souvenir?” he repeated, letting the sweet disbelief sweep
over him. He had a feeling that the stars are favouring him today.
“Yes, souvenir for our first meeting”, she told, not feeling
coy anymore.
Aakhil waited for one whole minute for the meaning of her
words to sink in and then he let out a low, lunatic giggle, the giggle that a
pauper would let out when he is informed that he is going to become a
millionaire overnight.
He realized that it was his responsibility to take things
over from here on.
“Well, I can’t believe I had to wait this long for-"
“For returning the jersey”, she interjected teasingly.
He saw no humor in that. He shook his head frantically and
said, “For telling you how much I love you, how much I want to be with you…”
“What are you waiting for, then? Do it!”
He didn’t have flowers in his hand, nor did he go down on
his knee. He just took a step closer to her, flipped the jersey over his
shoulder, ran his hand through his clumsy, unkempt hair and said,
“Sindhu, I’m in love with you, madly, truly, crazily…”
She simply beamed, with ‘Oh god, long how I had to wait for
this’ expression written all over face.
They looked into each others’ eyes and at that moment they
both knew they were destined to be together, forever.
Then almost immediately he blurted out, “Can I have your
number?”
She blinked. She felt that popping that question even before
the magic of the proposal would settle in was slightly less appropriate.
However, she said with her hands on her hip, “Okay… Maybe we
can exchange numbers”. She paused “… but
only over coffee”, she added with a wink.
He grinned crazily. ‘Some
woman she is’ he thought.
She took his grin as a ‘yes’.
That was how their
love story had begun. What followed was a wild, sizzling and super romantic
road trip. There were few bumps, alright. But those bumps mattered very little
to them; nothing in the world seemed to matter when they stayed together. Soon
they became the couple that everybody was jealous of.
Only two years had passed since their first meeting. But it
felt they had spent their entire lives living together. So, he decided to pop
the question. ‘Aakhil, don’t be hasty. Allow your love to get nurtured’ his
friend had told him. ‘Why does love need nurturing? What’s wrong if it stays raw,
fervent and unstable forever? And if at all it needs nurturing, let it happen
after marriage’ he thought. He simply couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his
life with her…
He stared intently at the entrance of the park, as he
meddled with his bike keys. ‘What’s taking you so long, Sindhu? You better come
before I change my mind about the marriage proposal’ he thought. He smiled as
he realized how fake the threatening sounded. But what his smile hid was the
creases of uneasiness which had begun to slowly chew away his happiness.
He took a deep breath and shifted his weight restlessly.
Panic began to seep into him, now. Usually it took her around half-an-hour to
reach the park. Even if there was heavy traffic, it would take her an extra
fifteen minutes or so. But now, he had waited for nearly an hour. He gripped
his mobile a bit tighter, debating with himself on making a call to her. He had
already called her thrice and all the three calls had gone unattended. He wiped
the sweat from his forehead. He pondered for a moment and then decided against
contacting her, for he knew she would be driving now. ‘But what if…’ He let the question hang there, not wanting to
complete it. With the ghost of optimism, he thought that something might have gone
wrong with her moped. ‘In that case, she
would have definitely rung up…’, he thought.
The loud, alarming ringtone of his mobile startled him. It
was Sindhu’s friend, Pooja. Fear gripped his heart. Something didn’t seem right. When he picked
the call, he heard only sobs for a few seconds. His head throbbed. He kept
yelling ‘hello’ feeling desperate, finally Pooja spoke, “A-Aakhil, it’s
Sindhu…”
His heart stopped. “WHAT HAPPENED TO SINDHU?”
“She’s…Please don’t ask any questions now… Aakhil, listen come to the General Hospital.
Hurry up, Please…
His mobile fell to the ground. The whole world seemed to
shatter right in front of him, the world he and Sindhu had built together. He
couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He buried his head into his palms. The
tears spilt across his cheeks.
He wanted it to be a nightmare, a nightmare that would be
over in no time. But the brutal reality was laid naked in front of him. ‘Sindhu
is-‘ ‘No, she’s not dead. I won’t let her die. I shall tell her how much I love
her, how badly I need her by my side, and then we would get married , have kids
and…’ he suddenly stopped realizing how slim are the chances of these things
happening. This brought fresh, new tears to his eyes.
After a few minutes, he tried to get a grip over himself. He
must focus, he must act. ‘Sindhu is going to be alright. She can’t be dead when
I’m still alive’ he told himself.
He staggered towards his bike, shifted the gear and sped
towards the hospital.
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