Expressions!!

 He let out a slight sigh as he moved to turn the alarm off. A smile crossed him, reminding him of all the alarms he ignored, and here he was intercepting one before it even begin its monotonous irritating chime. He had a long night. He could exactly recall all the hours, the time and his positions on the bed and the single thread of thought which subsumed his entire night. Entire night was such a small time period to put it in. He took a look across the bed and as usual she was already up, but he already knew that. The sounds emanating from the kitchen already announced that and moreover he was only pretending to be awake when she got up around an hour ago and covered him with his sheet. He never told her but he was really mystified by her graceful demeanor and that too despite his tantrums, a much too obvious feeling of indifference and her modern upbringing. In another universe, in another life he would have considered himself lucky to have her. He lingered on, trying to catch the last shreds of his night long wrestle, but finally decided to delay it for later. Out of habit he got up and ambled towards the door to pick up the newspaper. She sensed his movements and as a well synchronized part of her morning rituals, put a cup of tea on the dining table to accompany his newspaper. He pulled on a nervous smile as she crossed her path, still engrossed in his thoughts while mindlessly staring at the newspaper, she responded as she normally would.

“Good Morning”, she said with a believable cheerfulness in her voice. The reply was equally formal and lackluster, but that never seemed to deter her. Again she got busy with her morning rituals. They both were too dispassionate and boring to be identified as a newly married couple. He kept going through the pages although he could make sense of some news at least. For the time being his dilemma was ignored and replaced by the frail political scenario in one of the states. He kept glancing at her in between, carefully timing them to avoid any eye contact, as today was one of those days when he couldn’t risk being exposed. He had no idea that he was not that good as acting as he thought he was.

The rest of the morning was mechanical. He has gone about his usual routine. Everything was already selected, arranged, all the decisions have been taken. He couldn't believe the chaos the mornings used to be earlier, when he was just a single person trying to fight the Monday night blues. Her choice was always in good taste and it was uncanny that how often he knew he would have ended up selecting the same things as she had. His admiration in her was renewed. He was getting too dependent on her and he wanted to avoid that. He dreaded the ticking clock he wanted to delay the inevitable but couldn't. Breakfast was uneventful except for her. She looked lovely in her dress, which he knew was one of her favorite. He tried to move his glance elsewhere to avoid being caught staring at her and he failed. She looked too occupied with her morning crossword to notice his stares, but he didn't want to risk it. He finished it in a hurry, which was ironical as he wanted the morning to drag as long as possible, for he didn't think he was ready to face what awaited him. As he was about to leave she intercepted him.

“Aren't we supposed to go together?”

He remembered she had told him about her meeting which was supposed to be in the same area as his office. He regretted forgetting it and shuddered at the effects it may entail.

“Oh sorry I forgot, you come I am waiting downstairs in the car.”, he said trying to sound apologetic and sincere.  And he left. He decided against using the elevator and trickled slowly along the stairs. From the 11^th floor it was going to be a long walk, it was going to be a long day and he didn't knew how he wanted it to end.

 41. She counted for the umpteenth time and deliberately avoided the other one. These counts have become almost second nature to her, for obvious reasons. They underline her insecurity, her impatience, her slowly waning hope and a slight approach of an impending doom. She felt a pang of frustration for falling into the same trap again, just yesterday she promised not to do it again. She hated these nights now, especially the weekend ones. Without the tiresome work sleep was a tough endeavor and the alternative was acutely excruciating.

But she loved the night 41 days ago and why she shouldn't. It was one of the most memorable events she would ever have in her life. She remembered being an apprehensive bride. She remembered peering into the mirror trying to convince her of the decision she took. She recollected all the arguments she made inside her tumultuous mind to justify her pursuit, her choice and her marriage. All these thoughts transferred her back to the day and she smiled. She thought of the many delightful incidents, the mishaps, her mischievous friends and her happy parents. She was almost able to trace the path her tears followed in the final moments of that day. She thought of her brother and his silly attempts to avoid watching her go. But most of all she remembered the long ride with him.

She was sitting in the corner, teary eyed, peering out of the window to have those last glimpses of her crying mom, her sad dad and her weeping brother. Slowly they dissolved into the night and she felt all alone. Her eyes instinctively turned to him. She was searching for some reassurance from him, some gesture which would console her that she need not worry and that her life is going to be beautiful from that moment on.  But she was disappointed. Her ‘new’ life was not supposed to start like this. She looked at him intently hoping for him to turn and reveal his thoughts, but he was too occupied looking into the engulfing darkness. He was searching for something in the shadows and she was searching for something in him. Finally her patience paid off he looked at her and said,

“Don’t worry I am not that bad.”

Under the circumstances it was a good joke and she wanted to give a heartfelt smile, what kept her was the look in his eyes. She could see that they were sincere but there was no hint of the affection she was hoping to find in them. And those eyes have been exactly the same in these 41 days. She was reminded of the other count, 59, it was decreasing rapidly.

1:00 am.
She wanted to loiter with her thoughts but tomorrow was quite important, both professionally and personally, so she forced herself into a labored sleep.

She got up still tired from the fragmented sleep she managed and searched for her mobile to find out the time. Carefully tucking it under her pillow, to avoid filling the darkened room with rays of light, she found out. 5:45am, almost. Her mother would have been proud and she was. Her transformation from a pampered kid to a responsible wife has been startling to say the least. Carefully she got up and looked at him. He was curled up as he normally was in his sleep. She smiled and that smile had a hint of pity for her, of all the people who chased her she had to fall for him. A moment of clarity followed and she continued with her pitiful smile, despite his indifference, it was clear to her that she actually loved him even if she was still not clear of the actual meaning of the word. She carefully covered him with his sheet and had that weird feeling that he was awake; she had that feeling the whole night. She knew something was peculiar last night for he was awfully quiet; her doubts were reaffirmed when he didn't seem to enjoy his food, despite it being her best effort till date. He had given a more cheerful reception to her first burnt dish. A part of her wanted to confront him, seek answers she knew she deserved, but she refrained from letting her emotions get the better of her, at least not for another 58 days. She gave him one last languid, soulful look and went about her carefully orchestrated morning schedule.

 The music was loud. The lights were dim. She slowly sipped her margarita, her 7^th today, but it was all right she was celebrating.  One more day and she won’t have to face him every day. Her friends dragged her to the dance floor, which was way too crowded for her to even move let alone dance, thankfully. Large quantities of alcohol always made her gloomy today and she had more reasons than alcohol to be gloomy. She contemplated her 8^th, she was already past her established bounds, but it was all right, after all she was ‘celebrating’, the irony of the word can’t be stressed enough.

“One large Margarita, Please”, she ordered repeating thrice before the bartender finally heard her and refilled.

One day more and he finally will be written off her life, at least that is what she had planned. Professionally it was a moment to cherish. She was getting an opportunity which most of her co-workers dreamt of , working in the real ‘Silicon Valley’ instead of its Indian off shoot, but her personal predicament belittled her achievement.  She was never the one to define her life predominantly by her profession, she always wanted be good at whatever she did but balance is what she always sought.

He was influencing her time-honored decision making criteria, he has came a long way from just being an immaterial class mate. The thought would have sounded absolutely bizarre to her 5 years ago. She could recall the exact word she used to describe it, “preposterous”. She remembered the cruel laugh she had back in college when one of her friend informed of his intentions about her, life has a vindictive way of getting back at you, she realized. She was contumelious back then. The idea of her being related with him was not something she would have allowed in a million years. She needed someone special which he was definitely not. She was not going to settle for someone so normal and mundane. He made feeble attempts to bring it to her notice and she remembered the arrogance with which she quashed them. After a while he stopped and at first she was relieved, later she couldn't help feeling sorry for him.  College kept throwing him at her for the next 2 years though but now there were no frail attempts, they were replaced by a strong feeling of indifference, not that she cared but it did make her feel bad at times.

Years to follow changed her perception of him. Of course he was still normal and mundane but he was an extremely likable normal and mundane person. He hid his feelings well so she could never tell that how he actually felt, especially when he was around her, but she could swear she saw a glimmer of sadness in him then. What actually changed her perception of him she could never tell. Somewhere between those transitions from class mates to colleagues she realized that the idea that seemed “preposterous” was not preposterous at all, in fact she wanted him to start over again, for now she had an entirely different outcome waiting for him. She gave him all the hints she could but he never took any of them, maybe the initial rejection still had a scathing scar somewhere beneath, but she always was confident of overcoming it, eventually. And then suddenly he threw a party commemorating his engagement.

The next 41 days have been a labored attempt from her to appear normal. She has not been normal at all. She knew that most of the blame lies with her but that never seemed to help. She needed to get away from him. And tomorrow she would. She wondered if she will truly get away from him ever.

“Two more Margaritas, Please”, she ordered again hoping that a hangover would help her face what awaited her. She gulped them down quickly and joined her friends on the dance floor, she wished the idea remained “preposterous”, she wished she loved someone special rather than this simpleton.

Note: Writing in pronouns can be a bit confusing especially when addressing multiple characters. So in this one 'She' refers to both, the character from 'Her' and ' The other her'. For most of the post 'She' is the character from 'The Other Her' but it changes near the end. The change is marked with a note. I hope you don't find it too confusing  :)

His ever slackening pace came to a halt on the 8^th floor. He took a long look at the crowded road visible from his building; considering the usual concrete jungle he lived in, the view was beautiful. The hustle bustle on the road below had an undertone of chaos in it, just your regular Monday morning. He could predict an impending traffic jam and the following pandemonium. The daring bike guy wiggling through lines of car caught his attention; his theatrics bought back a few memories. He missed those.

Reluctantly he made an unsuccessful attempt to wriggle out of his stupor and get going. He was still engrossed in the memories evoked by the careless bike rider. They pressed against his consciousness, inducing a scathing pain. He flinched and tried to move once again but remained rooted to the spot still browsing through his mixed bag of memories, one in particular. She was ironically the most painful yet a cherished memory of all those gone by years.

Even after all those years he could never really pinpoint why he liked her. She was almost everything he wasn't  and much more. She was definitely neither the most attractive of her peers nor the intelligent one and definitely not the kindest one. Whoever she was he was instantly smitten with her from the first time he set his eyes on her. He still remembered the turmoil she caused within him, the endless debates he held against himself trying to convince him of the futility of it all. Needless to say all of them ended without the logical conclusion which he wanted to opt for. Not surprisingly after each such lengthy, one-sided, fruitless debate he was even more intrigued by her.

It took weeks of deliberations and every available ounce of courage he could summon to take that decision. He decided to let go of his constant internal conflict, to ignore the lengthy list of rational arguments he has compiled, to rise above his deep rooted fear. He desperately wanted it to end, for better or for worse, he had to put an end to it before it subsumed him into a hollow existence. Despite of what followed he still felt proud for combating his fears and rising above them. Unfortunately it was a marginal by-product of a brutal act of decimation.

Courage can be such a double edged sword. Tackling our fears and transcending them seems like such a noble idea but it is accompanied by devastating consequences. Maybe that is why only a few of us are truly courageous. He never understood why she made him the target of her vicious whiplash, it was almost like she wanted to make an example out of him, and she did. At worst he expected a quiet somber rejection but compared to what happened a rejection would have a far more humane outcome. His annihilation was not a civil act. His young impressionable mind never really recovered from it. The reverberations of the event haunted him even now, she haunted him even now.

As a testament to widely recognized cruelty of fate, live never let him really forget her. For some insane sadistic reasons it kept throwing them together, from college projects to common friends to the shared workplace, she always hung around like a painful memory refreshed regularly. Over the years he did got on acceptable terms with her. She apologized and he also tried to accept it and move on, feigning friendship along the way. He noticed her softened expressions in the last couple of months, almost to the point where he mistook them for misplaced affection. A part of him wanted to retrace his steps of past and the same bold mistake once again but the painful remains of his wound made it impossible. Maybe that is why he gave in to his mother’s repeated pleadings and decided it was about time. He was sure that his middle class values along with the institution of marriage will help him move away from her, finally. Once again he was……

Note: Now she is the character from Her.

The harmonic melody of his neoclassical ringtone perturbed his chain of thought. He looked at his phone. It was her.

He glanced at the time, 10:00 am. It’s been 30 minutes since he left the house and he was still on the 8^th floor.

 “Where are you? I am already waiting by the care. Are you all right? “. Her voice conveyed her genuine concern. He couldn’t understand how she can have an ounce of affection for such a distant person.

“I am okay. I forgot something so had to go back, will be there in 5 minutes.” He lied, unconvincingly, and disconnected the call.

He looked at the same expanse of urban clockwork. The traffic jam which he predicted has already in its full glory and the usual bedlam was being exhibited all around. His eyes searched for the daring bike guy. He was stuck in between the same cars which he was effortlessly maneuvering through. His helmet was off and he sweated profusely. His eyes were searching for an exit route in all this pandemonium. There was none to be found, he gave a disappointing shrug and waited for opening which will allow him to get free and be the daring bike guy once again. It was a painful agonizing wait.

He pressed the elevator’s call button. He couldn't risk being stuck at another floor. She was worried and waiting for him. He gave her enough trouble already. The elevator door dinged and closed quickly. His nightmares were contained for now as he prepared the role of a calm, jovial person once again.

The door slammed behind him. He was not being himself today. The usual efforts that he put in to appear normal were missing. He clearly had a lot on his mind today otherwise it was unlikely for him to be this disjoint. She wondered how many people actually knew the real him. To the casual observer he would fit in the normal bracket; amicable, humorous and overall a decent average person. Not a lot of people looked beyond his veil which hid the other half, his fractured identity struggling to come to terms with the world, his constant conflict for meaning and reason. The picture behind the canvass was poignant and heartbreaking at times. The hiding act was admirable if not perfect. Only a handful few really knew him, she knew him.

Sometimes, not very often though, she regretted the fact that she looked through him without much effort. The pleasant exterior never confused her and to add to her misery she was always attracted to this concealed damaged persona. This inexplicable attraction has been a constant source of heartache for her, from the very moment she met him, but despite of this all she couldn't bear the thought of pulling away from him.

She never thought her life would be arranged for her in the traditional way. She was always a free spirit, full of dreams and above all a die hard feminist. She blatantly mocked the whole traditional drama of arranged marriages. The very idea of it was always unbearable for her. Although she did agreed to her parent’s constant request to meet prospective guys, handpicked by them, but she only thought of it as an appeasement policy for her haggling parents. She was sure once she had rejected enough guys they would take the point and leave her alone to figure her life out. Ironically he was the first one in her “rejection” drama.

He was different than most guys she knew. Most were instantly enchanted by her. She was readily accepted as someone who is beautiful, warm, comfortable and humorous; the kind of girl most people craved for. Contrary to the majority he was calculated and normally distant. His action dictated a gracious yet controlled admiration for her. It was not the reaction she normally received from guys, especially from simpletons like him. She was both mildly agitated and intrigued.

This very intrigue was soon driving her, for she wanted to solve this puzzle, she wanted to solve him. She elicited an enthusiastic surprise from her parents when she declared her interest in him and even a possibility, subject to a few more meets with him. She looked forward to meeting him still certain that she can always start her “rejection” routine once she finishes finding her answers. She was strangely excited about it, which was unheard of.

If the first meet was intriguing the second one was equally refreshing. His broken demeanor kept aside, he was really the kind of person she would have hoped for; naturally intelligent, knowledgeable and with a wacky sense of humor. His natural appearance was effort full and quite convincing but the cracks were exposed every now and then, in the pauses or in the long glances he threw around. It was uncanny how alike they really were. Like, dislikes, outlooks, interests; they shared almost each of them. His mystery along with his personality was alluring to her. The “rejection” endgame was slowly chipping away.

Her parents were really confused when she requested a few more meets with him to be certain. She could sense that the decision was already made, albeit a risky one. She was convinced of breaking through, what she was not certain of was what she will find underneath. She hoped that some time together will help her ascertain whether to follow on her unjustified instincts or not. However hard she tried she couldn't find a reason to reject him and move past him.  Her “rejection” drama never moved past the first scene.

It is her 41^st day with him and he still is a mystery to her. She often wondered if it was a mistake or not and surprisingly she still can’t convince herself that it was. He was as she had always expected; cold, distant but affable and a good husband, at least superficially.  She has given her crazy experiment 100 days; she always thought 100 would be enough to determine her future, their future or the lack of it. Her faith is waning everyday but she still hopes often without reason. She is still seeks her answers but now she is not sure if she wants them anymore.

She finished her breakfast, touched up on her appearance and got ready for the 41^st day believing that 42 is going to be her lucky number.

Note: She is “The Other Her” in most of this, except in the end which I will mark.

She woke up with a throbbing headache. Her grand plan of letting the hangover take care of the imminent events had one fatal flaw after all, it added to the already incomprehensible mosaic of complexities. She contemplated sleeping in, calling in sick or simply disappearing somehow; but that was easier said that than done. No matter what she needed to face it, she needed to face him even if for one last time. It was not going to be pretty but it surely was unavoidable.

She slowly slumped out of the bed and made her way to her living room. She glanced at her life’s worth; all boxed up and ready to be moved. Her new life was beckoning but first she needed to handle the demons of her past, she needed to move on. She needed the closure.

He snoozed his meeting reminder as he negotiated the heavy rush hour traffic. He was going to be late for his important meeting and yet he was not agitated by that fact which in normal circumstances would have ruffled his entire composure, but today was anything but normal. He parked his car at his designated spot and hastily walked on towards the elevator to the office and suddenly he stopped. He noticed the maintenance people of his office removing her name from her parking spot. A simple swipe of paint and all the traces of her existence removed. If only.

He retired to his plush office chair as soon as he reached the office. He had a meeting to prepare for, an important one too. He appreciated the distraction as he hoped it would take a major amount of his day and hence help him avoid her…..He was about to rehearse his presentation for the umpteenth time when his secretary rushed in.

“Sir, the meeting is postponed. The client won’t be able to make it this week. They have requested it to be moved to next week.” She said and awaited further instructions.

“Okay, good for me. That frees up my whole day.” He dismissed her and was left alone disappointed at losing his distraction.

“One more thing sir just one minute.” She said and left.

She back a few minutes later with a huge card, her farewell card.

“Sir, most of us have already written on it you are the only one remaining. You write something so that we can give the card and the gift to her.”

“Okay you leave it I will write and call you when I am done.”

She left leaving the card behind on his table. He took a look at it and wondered what he will write. He thought about preparing his presentation again but he was already way more prepared than he needed to be. He quietly sat down and peered through his cabin’s glass wall she was nowhere to be seen, yet.

He pondered for possible lines to write. He drew a blank which was a rarity. Glibness was one of his better known traits, he felt proud for a few things and it was definitely way up there on the list. He opened the card and started reading the wishes scribbled by her colleagues; most of them had a very formal note except from a few of her friends who were really close to her. He couldn't decide what tone to use while writing, he was afraid that it will either be too professional or too personal and both were equally questionable.

He noticed the buzz through his walls. A group of people were congregating around her office, it meant that she has arrived. From the large group of people he could comprehend her popularity and it was well justified. She was fun, helpful, and empathetic and of course beautiful; almost everyone liked her. The whole farewell event lasted well over an hour while he twiddled his thumbs struggling with lines which will allow him to negotiate his “farewell card” dilemma. He put his head down, as he often did, reminiscing his primary school days when the gesture provided solution for just about anything. It was not that potent anymore but still peaceful and enjoyable.

“Can I come in?” A knock on his door disturbed his quiet sojourn for suggestions. It was her.

“Since when do you ask?” He said putting on a weak smile. She smiled back remembering all those times when she just used to simply barge in.

“You didn’t come and meet me, why?” She asked her voice indicating a hint of disappointment.

“I was just about to.” He lied in his usual unconvincing fashion.

She just rolled her eyes in her typical dismissive “Oh Yeah really!” gesture.

“I knew you would but why take chances. After all it is also time for our tradition.” She said referring to the tradition both of them shared since their early office days, having lunch of “Vada Pavs” and assorted snacks every Friday afternoon.

“I will make the coffee.” Coffee was a recent addition to it only added once he got the promotion and a plush cabin office, big enough to have a couch and a coffee machine.

“So where is my get away gift? And don’t say you don’t have one for me.” 

Her question caught him completely off guard. He should have got something for her but now it was too late. He was about to apologize profusely when he realized something. He had a gift for her after all, something she asked repeatedly for; anklets from his hometown. On his last visit he had finally bought them from her but he also got engaged on that last visit which slightly complicated things. So he never got around to giving them to her. And it was sitting in his office desk, gift wrapped, ever since.

“Of course I have a gift for you. What did you thought I would forget?”  He retrieved them from the drawer and handed them over.

“Are they? You remembered? Thank you” She realized what was in them and something about it make her uncomfortable for a moment.

“Why I wouldn't remember, you were literally screaming in my ears for them for at least three months. That is why I remembered.” The coffee machine beeped and they sat down on the couch for having probably their last ceremonial lunch.

They sat down and talked. Talked about almost everything they could in those few hours. Incidents from the college, office, about their struggles, victories and a bunch of miscellaneous stuff. They haven’t talked this much in a long time, at least not in the last couple of months. They both felt relieved and calmed, as if those few words melted away all the uneasiness the last two months has created between them. Their discussion was broken by the tap on the door.

“Sir it’s time for her farewell party in the conference room.” His secretary informed him.

“Is it 5 already?” She asked with disbelief.

“Actually it is 6. Come quickly people really like you but not enough to sacrifice their whole Friday evening.” Secretary said and left.

They have been talking for straight 5 hours and none of them had even a slight inkling. He got up and was about to leave.

“She is lucky to have you.” Her words stopped him dead in his feet. He turned to look at her and she looked inexplicable. Her eyes were slightly at odds with her confident composure.

“I should never have done that.” She said and stopped. Words were not easy to come by for both of them.

“You should look forward; you have a lovely life to look up to. I would try to do the same.” She concluded maintaining the same composure throughout.

“We should leave now.” He was too dumbfounded to react at the moment.

She held his hand and almost forced him to the crowded conference room. The party was already halfway to completion; they were mobbed as soon as they arrived. For the next 2 hours they drank, they laughed and they danced; somehow both of them were in a tranquil state and they joked about their behavior of late. As the party ended and everyone left he stayed behind to say her goodbye.

“Guess that is it.” She said as her cab arrived smiling but the smile had a touch of genuineness about it.

“That’s just the start of it.” He said and extended his hand for a handshake.

“Come on I at least deserve more than that.”  And she hugged him and it was not as awkward as he thought it would be.  They exchanged the goodbyes promising each other that they would remain in touch, occasionally if not frequently. As the cab left and she could no longer watch him through the tinted window she started reading her farewell card. The tears she fought for so long finally came rolling down as she read his note on the card, “Be happy. Please”.

  

The door slammed behind him. He was not being himself today. The usual efforts that he put in to appear normal were missing. He clearly had a lot on his mind otherwise it was unlikely for him to be this disjoint. She wondered how many people actually knew the real him. To the casual observer he would fit in the normal bracket; amicable, humorous and overall a decent average person. Not a lot of people looked beyond his veil which hid the other half, his fractured identity struggling to come to terms with the world, his constant conflict for meaning and reason. The picture behind the canvass was poignant and heartbreaking at times. The hiding act was admirable if not perfect. Only a handful few really knew him, she knew him. 

Sometimes, not very often though, she regretted the fact that she looked through him without much effort. The pleasant exterior never confused her and to add to her misery she was always attracted to this concealed damaged persona. This inexplicable attraction has been a constant source of heartache for her, from the very moment she met him, but despite of this all she couldn’t bear the thought of pulling away from him. 

She never thought her life would be arranged for her in the traditional way. She was always a free spirit, full of dreams and above all a diehard feminist. She blatantly mocked the whole traditional drama of arranged marriages. The very idea of it was always unbearable for her. Although she did agreed to her parent’s constant request to meet prospective guys, handpicked by them, but she only thought of it as an appeasement policy for her haggling parents. She was sure once she had rejected enough guys they would take the point and leave her alone to figure her life out. Ironically he was the first one in her “rejection” drama. 

He was different than most guys she knew. Most were instantly enchanted by her. She was readily accepted as someone who is beautiful, warm, comfortable and humorous; the kind of girl most people craved for. Contrary to the majority he was calculated and normally distant. His action dictated a gracious yet controlled admiration for her. It was not the reaction she normally received from guys, especially from simpletons like him. She was both mildly agitated and intrigued.

This very intrigue was soon driving her, for she wanted to solve this puzzle, she wanted to solve him. She elicited an enthusiastic surprise from her parents when she declared her interest in him and even a possibility, subject to a few more meets with him. She looked forward to meeting him still certain that she can always start her “rejection” routine once she finishes finding her answers. She was strangely excited about it, which was unheard of. 

If the first meet was intriguing the second one was equally refreshing. His broken demeanor kept aside, he was really the kind of person she would have hoped for; naturally intelligent, knowledgeable and with a clever sense of humor. His natural appearance was effortful and quite convincing but the cracks were exposed every now and than, in the pauses or in the long glances he threw around. It was uncanny how alike they really were. Like, dislikes, outlooks, interests; they shared almost each of them. His mystery along with his personality was alluring to her. The “rejection” endgame was slowly chipping away. 

Her parents were really confused when she requested a few more meets with him to be certain. She could sense that the decision was already made, albeit a risky one. She was convinced of breaking through, what she was not certain of was what she will find underneath and how will she react to it. She hoped that some time together will help her ascertain whether to follow on her unjustified instincts or not. However hard she tried she couldn’t find a reason to reject and move past him.  Mockingly her “rejection” drama never moved past the first scene. 

It is her 41^st day with him and some part of him is still a mystery to her. She often wondered if her decision was a mistake or not and surprisingly she still can’t convince herself that it was. He was as she had always expected; cold, distant but affable and a good husband, at least superficially.  She has given her crazy experiment 100 days; she always thought 100 would be enough to determine her future, their future or the lack of it. 

Her faith is waning everyday but she still hopes often without reason. She still seeks her answers but now she is not sure if she wants them anymore. 

His ever slackening pace came to a halt on the 8^th floor. He took a long look at the crowded road visible from his building; considering the usual concrete jungle he lived in, the view was beautiful. The hustle bustle on the road below had an undertone of chaos in it, just your regular Monday morning. He could predict an impending traffic jam and the following pandemonium. The daring bike guy wiggling through lines of car caught his attention; his theatrics bought back a few memories. He missed those.

Reluctantly he made an unsuccessful attempt to wriggle out of his stupor and get going. He was still engrossed in the memories evoked by the careless bike rider. They pressed against his consciousness, inducing a scathing pain. He flinched and tried to move once again but remained rooted to the spot still browsing through his mixed bag of memories, one in particular. She was ironically the most painful yet a cherished memory of all those gone by years. 

Even after all those years he could never really pinpoint why he liked her. Maybe because she was almost everything he wasn’t, and much more. She was definitely neither the most attractive of her peers nor the intelligent one and definitely not the kindest one. Whoever she was he was instantly smitten from the moment his eyes rested on her. He still remembered the turmoil she caused within him, the endless debates he held against himself trying to convince him of the futility of it all. Needless to say all of them ended without the logical conclusion which he wanted to opt for. Not surprisingly after each such lengthy, one-sided, fruitless debate he was even more intrigued by her.

It took weeks of deliberations and every available ounce of courage he could summon to take that decision. He decided to let go of his constant internal conflict, to ignore the lengthy list of rational arguments he has compiled, to rise above his deep rooted fear. He desperately wanted it to end, for better or for worse, he had to put an end to it before it subsumed him into nothingness. Despite of what followed he still felt proud for combating his fears and rising above them. Unfortunately it was a marginal by-product of a brutal act of decimation. 

Courage can be such a double edged sword. Tackling our fears and transcending them seems like such a noble idea but it is often accompanied by devastating consequences. Maybe that is why only a few of us are truly courageous. 

He never understood why she made him the target of her vicious whiplash, it was almost like she wanted to make an example out of him, and she did. At worst he expected a quiet somber rejection but compared to what happened that would have a far more humane outcome. His annihilation was not a civil act. His young impressionable mind never really recovered from it. The reverberations of the event haunted him even now, she haunted him even now.

As a testament to widely recognized cruelty of fate, live never let him really forget her. For some insane sadistic reasons it kept throwing them together, from college projects to common friends to the shared workplace, she always hung around like a painful memory refreshed regularly. Over the years he did got on acceptable terms with her. She apologized and he also tried to accept it and move on, feigning friendship along the way. He noticed her softened expressions in the last couple of months, almost to the point where he mistook them for misplaced affection. A part of him wanted to retrace his steps of past and the make the same bold mistake once again but the painful remains of his wound made it impossible. Maybe that is why he gave in to his mother’s repeated pleadings and concluded it was about time. He was sure that his middle class values along with the institution of marriage will help him move away from her, finally. Once again he was……

Note: 'She' is now the character from 'Her'.

The harmonic melody of his neoclassical ringtone perturbed his chain of thought. He looked at his phone. It was her. 

He glanced at the time, 10:00 am. It’s been 30 minutes since he left the house and he was still on the 8^th floor. He answered to a panic stricken voice.

 “Where are you? I am already waiting by the care. Are you all right? “. Her voice conveyed her genuine concern. He couldn’t understand how she can have an ounce of affection for such a distant person. 

“I am okay. I forgot something so had to go back, will be there in 5 minutes.” He lied, unconvincingly, and disconnected the call.

He looked at the same expanse of urban clockwork. The traffic jam which he predicted was already in its full glory and the usual bedlam was being exhibited all around. His eyes searched for the daring bike guy. He was stuck in between the same cars which he was effortlessly maneuvering through. His helmet was off and he sweated profusely. His eyes were searching for an exit route in all this pandemonium. There was none to be found, he gave a disappointing shrug and waited for opening which will allow him to get free and be the daring bike guy once again. It was a painful and agonizing wait.

Chaos is guaranteed upon arrival of a train, even if the train is to start from the same station after a good half an hour. As I left to make sure that her highness arrived safe and secure to her palatial palace of 2-tier AC, the rest of pauper brigade waited for the scrambling crowd to ebb. Upon my return we negotiated an exchange of seats between a Mr. Pandeyji and the infant, he magnanimously obliged, failing to grasp the fact that he did himself a huge favor by moving away from the group of self confessed insomniacs. While we were enjoying our triumph in unifying the infant with rest of our group the train people decided to serve the tragedy disguising it as food. 

People always have a problem with train food despite the fact that we are taught a full time course in the art of “Surviving awful food” by our esteemed institute. The infant did much better than her last time when she refused to consume any meals provided to her by IRCTC, yes the same people who provide us with our trusted reservation system; awfulness seems to be deeply embedded in their acronym somewhere. Once we were filled up to the brim (pun indented) it was time for some entertainment. 

Watching a movie can be a real painful process especially when the movie is “Andaj Apna Apna” and the viewers included two smart a**es who over the years have made it a point to remember it dialog by dialog. In our defense, we tried to contain ourselves but it is tough to control years of instinct. Once the failed attempt to watch AAA was over we decided to visit her highness and probably drag her to our level so that she can witness the disparities between her palace and our quarters first hand. The Congirl decided to accompany me in the stroll across 3 compartments in a train travelling at somewhere near 100 kmph mark. Most will agree with the fact that walking across a railway compartment can be tricky. Walking in line, negotiating those narrow corridors can be tricky particularly when you notice someone on the opposite side approaching with some luggage (probably some poor waitlisted fellow) and you decide to give him right of way. The only option for you now is to intrude on someone’s privacy hoping they would have slept and won’t notice but sometimes they are not and they are not polite when they express their displeasure. And no matter how many train miles you have covered you will always flinch at that joint between two compartments. Unfortunately our walk was uneventful and we managed to drag her highness away from her comfort zone albeit reluctantly.

So many threads were intertwined in the successive hours that it would take a person with an excellent memory to recall them all. All those varied discussion finally did reach a relatively obvious objective though: Ghost stories. Everyone chipped in with their version, opinions and thoughts. Stories told by friend of a friend of a friend were told and retold. When discussing ghost stories story telling skills can make all the difference as was brilliantly underlined by the Congirl from her story. It was simple and plain but she made it come alive scarily. The winner was Nexus dude’s entry. A simple tale but when visualized properly it was enough to scare most of us. Finally sensing widespread dissent in the neighborhood some of us decided to call it a night. The issue now was of seat allocation. No one wants the middle berth. The silent observer and the infant quickly claimed the top tier and retired to their quarters to avoid further debate. The congirl invoked the argument, even the mention of which she would deem offensive in normal circumstances, the senior citizen argument. The nexus dude and pahadi baba finally decided to break the deadlock and sacrifice for the sake of group harmony.

All of us tried to sleep. Most of us managed to sleep quite well. But the two of us, me and the congirl, seemed determined to be in a perennial hyper active mode and the ever present sleep deserted us. Everyone hates babies at night in any mode of transportation. Their shrieks have more power than world’s most potent alarm clock and when they cry at 3 in night you feel a sudden urge to find them and shut them somehow, anyhow. Obviously we also got one such baby who made sure that everyone got up and tried to prove that “they were not sleeping at all”, like we were impervious to their snoring. 

The next morning another philosophical gem was thrown our way but in a painful and ironical way. The neighbors who were the victims last night suddenly turned the hunters. They made loud noise, played bad songs and even viciously commented upon our loud night discussions. They disturbed our hard earned sleep, this night they will have to pay dearly was the resolve we all made. Grudgingly we all woke up, had our breakfast and planned for our retaliation; they will regret it for sure. While we were deciding upon the movie to watch, with the selection criteria being that no one should be able to recite any of the dialog, Pahadi baba decided to retreat to the mountains (read the top berth) to do some serious movie saadhna. For rest of the day he behaved how our previous fellow passenger Mr. Pandeyji would have, courteous but distant. After careful deliberations we decided to revisit LOTR owing to the serious time killing qualities it possessed and the obvious difficulty involved in remembering its dialogs. 

LOTR along with the stupid chit chat and some poor game of cards ate most of our day. Somewhere in between we also saw off our guest Mr. Cynosure. Her highness decided to join us for the last leg of her journey preferring to mingle with the commoners rather than wait for her 12:50 station all by herself. That is when things got interesting or as her highness wanted “Toofaani”.  The event was simple enough. A man travelling alone was being accused by a girl travelling with her family of some indecent behavior. Everyone was enraged, her mom decided to dole out her own brand of justice involving slippers and slaps. The accused maintained the same idiotic defense the whole time that he was trying to charge his mobile. He looked guilty to most of us. Surprisingly the lady never took any serious action and was easily talked out of making any formal complaints which was really sad as she needed to take firm official action rather than just let a few slaps make up for it.