When a Lawyer Falls in Love (17 page)

Jaishree was also a part of perfume making workshop along with Pavan, who spent the rest of the day explaining why he was smelling like ‘jasmine-rose’!

Sonali took part in a street play where she essayed the role of a sweeper so convincingly that Ankur was actually embarrassed! Sonali’s play was one of the few events that Ankur could watch given the duties that had been assigned to him. One of which was to conducting these very intellectual games, the kind, Ankur concluded, that only people of his caliber could hope to participate in.

‘Hit the pot with one shot!’ was a game that had participants being blindfolded and given a long stick. Ankur would have preferred wielding the long stick on the person whose ingenious idea it was to conduct the event!

Ankur’s annoyance was justified. His job was to remain perched on a tree and keep lifting the low hanging earthen pot deftly each time a participant attempted to hit it. After spending close to three hours atop the branch, Ankur’s bottom had finally got immune to the pokey bark of the tree. And therefore, finally at sun down, Ankur preferred nesting there to having to climb down, which seemed too much of an effort. Yet, for the college revellers that Ankur had watched from above, the party had just begun!

Thirty-Five

‘IT’S LEGAL’, Ankur felt, had everything illegal about it— right down to the high decibel music and the management’s tact at extracting unpaid manual labour from the brightest brains in the country. And to think that the college spent five years teaching students how to file law suits, thought Ankur with a wry smile. Yet, preparing for the festival did have its odd advantage too—like losing weight from all the extra running around!

Ankur was sitting at the Help Desk sweating profusely. Hardly the picture of a pretty receptionist. The Help Desk was one in a line of many tents erected almost manually by the able bodied male students of AIU College. The college authorities probably thought that it would help if the lawyers tone their otherwise flabby muscles before stepping into the real world. If not the brain, at least the brawn, the college was determined to develop something.

‘Where can I find…?’ a female voice was asking when Ankur looked up. A tall slim girl in a short blue top and jeans stood before him. Two other guys who sat like wax models melting in the heat, suddenly perked up. Keeping in mind the skewed gender ratio at the law college, anyone in possession of anything that remotely resembled the female anatomy received instant attention and admiration.

‘Where can I find the main building?’ asked the girl with her mascara-laden eyes fixed on a map.

‘I’ll show you,’ Ankur found himself saying as he got up promptly.

‘I’m Bhoomika Shetty from Sri Sathya Sai Engineering College,’ the girl introduced herself, as they walked some distance. ‘Hi I’m Ankur Palekar from…this college,’ said Ankur suddenly feeling a little foolish.

‘So you’ve come here to take part in the fest?’ asked Ankur confirming his impression as an idiot.

‘Yeah…obviously!’ said the girl breaking into a smile. There was a gust of wind and the young engineer’s hair flew about. Ankur felt distracted. And fascinated.

Bhoomika had huge black curls that cascaded from the banana clip she carelessly wore. Banana clip! Ankur was surprised he knew the term.

As he stood trying to strike up a conversation with the pretty stranger, a stray thought of Sonali flashed across his mind. The girl with a cherry shaped mouth and a tiny push button of a nose right in the centre of her face whom he knew so well. It was afternoon, and Sonali would be at the food stalls by now. Ankur was amused that he was thinking of everything in terms of edible products. Maybe he was hungry. Or maybe, he was plain going bananas.

Thirty-Six

Since in the end, it hardly matters,
What route one chose to learn,
That from dust arose this mortal frame,
And unto dust we’ll all return!

Souvik finished his poem and was met with a thunderous applause. The poetry reading session usually had only funny poems and limericks being recited, but Souvik’s heart-felt poem was being appreciated. Or rather, the fact that the poem was selected by the
International Journal of Poetry
, was being appreciated. Either way the half a minute long applause felt good to hear. Jaishree was in the crowd. Applauding and broadly smiling.

For those around her, seeing the otherwise shy Jaishree do this in itself deserved applause. Vyas meanwhile, was doing the unthinkable. He was spending every minute in the library during a college festival.

While ‘IT’S LEGAL ’ raged and the college partied, Vyas would visit the library at least thrice each day. It hurt Ankur to see Vyas like that, but he knew that Vyas needed time alone. Of course, Ankur felt that logically, anyone ought to be happy to have someone like Caroline off his back. But with Vyas, logic never applied.

That’s probably why he carried on a relationship for half a decade with a girl who gave him only pain. And others a headache. Vyas had met Caroline when he was an immature idiot of seventeen. Ankur was against relationships that began when one had just tumbled out of kindergarten. It was as if Vyas had jumped into it too soon, and lost in love. On the other hand Souvik, Ankur felt, did just the opposite. Slow, steady and therefore his lady and he were together.

Even with the re-entry of the talkative Sonali into his lopsided world, Ankur’s life seemed to be standing still. At that precise moment on the second day of the festival, life seemed to be crawling past Ankur. Luckily he spotted Pavan and the others and went over for a chat.

‘The Mughal Emperor Akbar was a Libran; his father Humayun was a Piscean,’ Sonali was saying as she, Ankur and Jasihree sat eating hot cheese frankies. The trio were on duty that day as they issued tickets for a pop idol’s concert that evening. The counter which was nothing more than a rusted iron table with a couple of plastic chairs and a beach umbrella, was closed for a lunch break.

Jaishree almost blushed. She knew why Sonali was specifically mentioning ‘Libran’ and ‘Piscean’.

Signs together. Ankur’s male brain didn’t quite catch on as he was more interested in the factual details.

‘Wow! You’ve actually looked up some history texts, so what are the star signs of the other Emperors?’ Ankur asked intrigued.

Sonali smiled. ‘See when you are in my company your general knowledge automatically improves!’ Sonali said with a regal condescending shake of her hand and Ankur tried not to look amused. Sonali laughed.

‘Babur, the founder of the Mughal Dynasty, was an Aquarian. He actually had the foresight to know that he could create an empire, unlike the other invaders who simply plundered and left.

‘Shah Jahan, the creator of the Taj Mahal was a Capricorn. The Capricorn male, it is said, is not very vocal, but shows his love through gestures. Besides, a Capricorn, belonging to an earth sign, likes everything in concrete form. Probably that’s why during Shah Jahan’s reign, maximum number of Mughal monuments were built.

‘Jahangir, his father was a Virgo and Aurangzeb was a Scorpio,’ said Sonali as she dipped her cheese frankie in sauce. Ankur was smiling and Jaishree was attentive. The depth of her attention was seen in her query. ‘So the Libra and Piscean signs get along, don’t they?’

This time Ankur smiled even more broadly. Of course the Libra and Pisces signs got along. He knew a certain Bengali who would stand testimony to this. Sonali also smiled. ‘In the case of this air and water association, it’s more like a gentle breeze over the placid waters,’ Sonali completed, wriggling her fingers in air. Just then Bhoomika was seen approaching the stall. Ankur sat up straight. Noticing this, Sonali turned to look at Bhoomika, who was quite a head turner. Especially with her cascading hair and high platform heels.

‘Hi there!’ she said flashing a friendly smile at Ankur. ‘I’d like a ticket for the concert.’ A couple of guys suddenly collected around her, including Pavan, who looked eager for an introduction.

Ankur enthusiastically stamped a ticket with the college seal and handed it over to Bhoomika. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘By the way,’ Bhoomika continued casually, ‘would you be interested in coming to the dance workshop with me?’ Surprising himself, Ankur accepted as a stunned Sonali stared at him with big eyes.

It was probably the first time she had seen Ankur openly give another girl attention while she was around. And Sonali suddenly realised that she didn’t like it one bit!

‘Pavan!’ she called out as Pavan made a super quick appearance. ‘Will you be my partner for the salsa dance tomorrow?’ Sonali asked. Ankur’s gaze lowered and Pavan’s eyebrows shot up. Salsa dancing and Sonali Shah? Pavan Nair was already on the dance floor!

Clasping his hand around the slim waist of Jaishree, Souvik was convinced that he was in heaven—slow music, cherubic instructor dancing about, et al. If only Souvik looked around, he would actually find a harp. After all his heart was already singing.

The dance workshop was a combination of salsa, jazz and tango, each being taught for half an hour. Watching Souvik and Jaishree together, Sonali remembered the time when the shy Jaishree had refused to take part in the dance workshop saying that she would only dance with ‘one man’ in her life. She had finally found her man in life.

Sonali herself didn’t hold any such overtly romantic notions. When it came to dancing, any man would do. Except that Sonali wasn’t sure if Pavan even justified being called a man! The clumsy, but happy Pavan frisked about on the dance floor like a piglet let loose from its pen. Sonali felt like a sow as Pavan enthusiastically frolicked around her in poor imitation of some dance steps.

Ankur, meanwhile, was struggling just as much with Bhoomika. He tried not to add to the music each time Bhoomika stepped on his feet with her multipurpose high heeled shoes. The instructor made the whole group form a huge circle, each had to change partners with the change in music. So soon, Pavan’s monkey moves were being admonished by Bhoomika’s high heels and Ankur finally found himself dancing with Sonali.

‘So how was your dance?’ Sonali asked, as they tried to keep pace with the music. ‘Great!’ Ankur declared, almost ramming into a burly fellow who was all muscle and gelled hair.

‘How was your dance with Pavan?’ Ankur asked more out of formality. He knew that Pavan was as good at dancing as Ankur himself was at singing.

‘He dances like a dream,’ Sonali declared. ‘The kind of dream where you feel you are being chased and wake up sweating,’ Sonali finished and Ankur grinned.

For once he was glad that Pavan had two left feet. After all, Ankur wasn’t sure if he would have liked to hear Sonali praise another male.

Thirty-Seven

‘Those were the best days of my life…’ Bryan Adams’s
Summer of ’69
blared, suddenly switching to Dandiya beats. That is Indian fusion music for you, thought Ankur. The speakers from which the ear splitting music boomed made Ankur want to remove his ear drums and parcel them back home. Just the previous day, there had been a rock concert with vigorous head banging. Ankur had also wanted to bang his head, but for a different reason. The music sounded more like a train getting derailed, and the long haired singer looked as if he was getting electrocuted by his guitar.

There was always a stringent security check at the college rock shows. After all sex, booze and rock ‘n’ roll are known to go together.

The stadium was an impressive oval shaped structure equipped with flood lights. There was something called the ‘choreo-night’ which was a dance competition with more than two dozen colleges taking part. Ankur remembered being part of the college dance troupe during his first year. And his most vivid memory was of artificial smoke filling his nostrils and getting into his eyes. This, while he was on stage making giggle-inducing movements in front of a packed stadium.

A well coordinated dance needs hours of practice, Ankur had learnt. And though he did not have particularly fond memories of the dance rehearsals, he had a vague feeling that practising dance and practising law had more things in common than one would give them credit for.

Ankur also learnt that female engineers possessed a far greater degree of intellect than the male lawyers would credit them with. Ankur, Bhoomika and Pavan were sitting in one of the promotional stalls when a bulb suddenly fused. The brightly coloured tent they had been sitting in had been put up by a telecom company whose cell phones didn’t sell much.

Pavan, with a tube light of a brain volunteered to fix the bulb, more in an attempt to impress the girl he was with. Never mind if the girl happened to be an electrical engineer. He rotated the glass bulb in a bid to ‘o-pen’ and examine it. If only the same could be done to his head. Bhoomika offered to help but was neatly brushed aside. Bhoomika and Ankur looked on, amused as Pavan foolishly fiddled with the bulb till he gave up and left. With Pavan gone, Bhoomika had a good look at the now cooled bulb. Noticing the intact filament, she simply tried the bulb on a different plug point and sure enough, it lit up!