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Authors: Smita Kaushik

The Girl I Last Loved (9 page)

BOOK: The Girl I Last Loved
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Dear Romeo,
Today he was walking in the rain without an umbrella, though he was carrying one – I saw the top of an umbrella peeping through his bag.
I asked him ‘Don’t you have an umbrella?’.
He answered, ‘No’.
I also know why he lied.
Maybe there are some unanswered questions between us.
I will wait for him to ask them.

Love

Juliet

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

 

 

Prayas – A Beginning

Try and you will succeed… ‘coz everyone else isn’t.

—Kasam

 

I read the board and smiled.

How am I here? Long story short – Ved googled about Kasam residing in Mumbai. Thanks to her unique name, the list wasn’t long. I wasn’t very involved but wasn’t very reluctant too. Some part of me wanted Ved to go ahead with the search. After a few filters we were able to scan her down. When I saw the website Prayas, for some implicit reason it felt like Kasam.

The name, the tagline, it was all Kasam.

So here I am. I marched inside the twenty-two storey building, Prayas being on seventh. The guard saw me but didn’t budge. It’s the clothes that make all the difference. With no delay I was at the reception.

“I am here to see Ms Kasam.”

The receptionist gave me a monotonous smile, “Go straight, then turn right and look for hall No. 3.”

I walked inside after thanking her.

“Who’s up for some stretching?” Kasam’s voice echoed in the silence. The crowd exchanged confused glances and murmuring started. I saw a smile lingering around Kasam’s lips.

She yelled out, “Come on! Everyone I want you all to stand and raise your hands.”

Some promptly followed her instructions. Others somehow dragged themselves up and slowly raised their arms.

Kasam raised her voice, “Is this the highest you can reach?”

Now her words alerted them.

Everyone became serious. They straightened their arms and tried to stand on their toes.

Kasam smiled and lowered her tone, “Is it?”

Now there were a few jumping jacks in the crowd. She pointed to one of the boys who was jumping.

“If you think that’s the highest, think about it again.”

Then some random guy got up from his chair and struggled to touch the roof. He was graced with a few giggles and a few claps.

Kasam smiled, “Get down now.” She continued, “Now the most important question is why you didn’t think of standing on the chair when I first asked you to stand and raise your hand?”

She drifted her sight to all, “For that matter, why didn’t you all try getting up on your toes? ” she cleared her throat.

I smiled, standing in a distant corner.

“I need an answer, buds,” Kasam asked enthusiastically.

“We didn’t know your expectations,” someone shouted from the back.

“Interesting. Can’t I turn the question the other way around and say you didn’t realise your potential?” she paused to see their reaction.

They looked enlightened. She continued, “My expectations don’t have a limitation. It will modify according to your abilities. Instead, your abilities are something which will define a bar for my expectations.”

She went back to the dais and picked up a marker. She uttered while, opening the marker, “You know the disease we all suffer from?”

She started writing something on the board. When she moved, it read, ‘That-will-do-it-attitude’.

“Yes ‘that will do it’ attitude…,” she faced the crowd.

“We always perform according to this theory, whether it be achieving in our studies, our work or extending help to our family and friends.” A few people nodded.

“We always need some stick to push us forward. In exams, the stick is fear of failing or moment of glory. In work competition, promotions and perks are the stick. For family or friends, their love, their respect for you or ‘they will do the same for you’ in case can serve as the stick.”

She stepped in between the crowd and joined her hands.

“Suppose you are asked to run a 50-metre race. You go for it and return successful. Then you know you can run a 50-metre race,” Kasam shrugged her shoulders.

“What about the 100-metre, 500-metre and so on. You still have no idea about them. You may or may not, but you will never know until and unless you pull up your socks and actually try,” she stressed the word try.

“That’s why trying is important. It helps you to know your abilities and if possible, to extend them,” Kasam raised her head and smiled at them.

“I will stop now and you all will have to share your own life experiences where you went beyond your capacity. Remember, capacity is not a hair clutch, it’s rather a hair band.” Saying this, she took a seat.

Some girl in a sizzling red top got up, “Hi, I’m Sweta and I would like to share something with you all.”

Everyone’s focus, including Kasam’s shifted to her. Some girl now identified as Sweta continued in a comfortable tone, “It is something from the time when I was in the tenth grade, preparing for the Boards. Every day I used to make a fourteen-hour study plan for the following day, including gruesome concepts and derivations which were hard to grasp. I always knew I can never study for fourteen hours a day. However, in an attempt to achieve my target I outdid myself. Whatever outcome was there, it was much higher than what I expected from myself. Thus setting a goal beyond my capacity worked for me. I hope it does for you all as well.”

Others supported her with claps.

“Thank you Sweta, for adding such a wonderful real-life instance to our session. If others haven’t tried it before, it’s your time now.

“Who goes next?”

A few more people talked about their experiences as Kasam listened to them attentively.

Somewhere in between I lost the focus, as I was immersed in countless memories.

“Okay! I will call it a day. If you get a chance, try…,” everyone laughed over the word ‘try’.

Kasam joined them for a few seconds and continued, “and read
‘You can Win’.”

I came to my senses as Kasam stood up. She was doing what she was best at – ‘changing people’s life’. My heart beat accelerated.

I inched a bit towards her but retracted my half completed step. My heart raced. Same as it does when I spend a night in a bar and out of nowhere I am supposed to give a presentation the next day in the morning about the progress I have been making. The distance I traverse from my place to the projector screen seems the longest. My legs get stiff and when I walk, they start to tremble. I feel minor tremors in my body, fearing when I’ll view the slides, I’ll go blank. Maybe I’ll try to speak and the words won’t come out.

Reaching out to Kasam however, was much worse than that. It was accompanied by anxiety, hope and fear.

What if she looks at me and asks – ‘May I help you?’

I turned back with firm steps and confused emotions. A wedge connected us which neither allowed me come near her nor allowed me to let her off my sight. I returned back with slow, unsteady steps, without being seen by her. I slid back into my car and my heart stabilised.

I fastened the seat belt, thrust the engine and placed my hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly, I dropped my head down and breathed out as if I wasn’t breathing this whole time. Finally, I managed to collect myself.

As I opened my eyes, I saw Kasam. She was standing on the other side of the road; looking left, then right and right, then left. The road was quite busy – nothing unusual. She adjusted her bag and clutched it to her chest, holding the strap by both her hands. She was scared as always. That was the reason she never rode anything, not even a bicycle. There she goes – she tried to run through the gaps and almost crashed into someone’s car. Poor guy!

I unbuckled my seat belt, shook my head, smiled to myself and banged my car door open. With a little struggle, I was on the other side of the road. I was by her side. In no time I was in front of her. As I indicated to her to stay back through my hands, her face went blank.

I took her bag as I knew if she could only handle herself, that would be a big enough favour for both of us. I stood in front of her, stopping cars with one hand and escorting her by the other.

I glanced and raised my eyebrows at her. She slowly flipped her eyes.

I didn’t hold her but something told me she was following. A few minutes later, we were in the middle of the road. I hastened to break the crowd apart. Suddenly I turned back and Kasam wasn’t there. I searched for her and found her stuck to a spot. I progressed towards her and took her hand in mine.

In no time we were at the divider. I pulled her hand and shifted her to the other side. She was too amazed, excited or confused to react.

It all happened so fast, I wasn’t thinking at all. We finally were on the other side. She followed me to my car. Our eyes were locked just when I realised her hand was still in my grasp. I quickly let go. After a brief silence I opened the door for her.

She looked at the car and then at me. Her gaze remained fixed for a few moments and then without saying anything she got in the car. I gave the bag back to her and slammed the door shut.

Walking with long steps, I entered the car and started driving without another word. I didn’t bother to give her a single glance but I knew she was watching me. As the highway was just behind us, I asked, “Where should I drop you?” my eyes still fixed on the way.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

 

 

 

I headed towards Kasam’s stop. I missed catching the bus with Dad; rather, his stopping the bus for me, though he was happy to see me reach the bus-stand on my own.

I reached there after a twenty minutes’ walk.

She was nowhere in sight. I felt so irritated, ‘If she wasn’t coming to school today, she could have informed me. I wouldn’t have wasted my energy coming here.’

Just then I saw a beautiful girl from behind.

At least I got some time pass till the bus arrived.

She was wearing a yellow suit; but it wasn’t the normal kind. I didn’t know what to call it. It was a more fluffy version of the suit. Underneath was a purple
churidar.
With the yellow and purple mixed
duppatta
– long beads hanging from the corners, crackled as they brushed the ground – her burgundy long hair reminded me of Kasam. She brushed her hair with her long slender fingers and I caught a glimpse of the long purple loops bumping against her slender neck. Multicoloured bangles covered half of her arm.

As she turned, she seemed familiar. I was captivated by her beauty and the aura it created, to make my mind work.

“Happy birthday,” she wished me.

“Kasam, is it you?”

She smiled knowingly. How unbelievably ravishing she looked!

“You look awesome… even awesome is a lesser word to describe you today.”

“Thank you… thank you.”

“Wait a minute, is there a fancy dress event going on in the school at which only the coolest people are invited? Thus clearly I didn’t land up at one.”

“Can’t you at all think of anything else besides school? We aren’t going to school.”

I knew I couldn’t do it. I promised Dad that I would be at my best behaviour; but she looked like a girl with a plan and the way she was dressed, no one could ever say no to that.

Still I tried to make excuses.

“I am not dressed for going out,” I moved my hands, pointing at my school dress.

“We will take care of that,” she chuckled.

Next I knew we were at the mega mall. After a few trials, I was dressed in a pair of baggy jeans (in fashion at that time) and a loose white T-shirt combined with a purple checked shirt.

She aligned the collar and said, “We are good to go.”

“Bhaiya
take us to Kashishwar Mahadev temple.”

BOOK: The Girl I Last Loved
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