Will She Be Mine (21 page)

Did she take me for a fool to chuck a golden career after obtaining foothold in the high paying IT industry, following a long period of internal confusion? Now- when everything had started falling into place and I was hopefully about to marry the girl of my dreams- this girl was suggesting I leave my job and pursue a musical or medical career. Her mother didn’t take me seriously either, always thinking I was out of job. What did that family take me for? Was I a clown?

“Just curious, did your mother finally appreciate how I cured your fever?” I asked.

There was silence at her end.

“Anyway,” I said quickly. “Forget it. When is Shalini back?”

“She’s not gone anywhere. Why did you ask?”

“Then why doesn’t she answer my calls?”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” she said casually. “Okay, I’ll ask her to call you back.”

But Shalini didn’t call me. By now I’d bought a cellphone and shared the number with her over email. She already had a cellphone of her own but for some reason never shared the number with me, citing official reasons, otherwise I’d have sent her a sms too. On one of my recent trips to the US I had also purchased an expensive video camera. I could hardly wait to film her.

My matrimonial situation looked discouraging however. Earlier it used to always be Shalini or her father who answered the phone when I called. Of late, whenever I called to talk to her, I was almost sure Ragini would answer the line, and invariably she did. She’d ask about my computer music composition as if I had nothing better to do with my time! I humored her along, but always ended up feeling unsure if she was the one actually humoring me.

At last the day came when I jumped on the first flight to Delhi after getting my posting letter from DM. Earlier I used to travel by trains, and felt good to note my rapid upward climb in financial and social status, though I couldn’t dwell for long on these achievements in my present frame of mind. I was restless to meet Shalini. Matters of the heart could never progress satisfactorily over phone. Face to face I’d resolve every last confusion and uncertainty and also get her cellphone number. Who wanted to call up her house phone and talk to everyone else but her?

I was determined to fix a date for our wedding. It had been the single most, burning ambition of my life so far. As my cab reached home, I peered eagerly at her house hoping to catch sight of her. But the blinds were drawn and there was no one on the balcony.

It was late in the evening when I reached as I’d taken the last business flight out of Bangalore. I had little choice but to wait till the next day before ringing her doorbell. But I couldn’t ring her doorbell the next day as I had to leave early the next morning to locate my Gurgaon office.

On my first day in the office I learned that most offices in Gurgaon were powered by builders with privately owned diesel generator sets for the majority of the time. Power supply was extremely erratic. Often power supply remained disrupted for hours together.

The electricity power situation was absolutely dismal in the city. There were often up to twenty hours of power outages in domestic houses. I was glad I stayed in Delhi, though there too the summers saw several hours of power outages every day. Fortunately father had installed an inverter in the house that managed to provide power to run two tube lights and a fan for four to six hours in the event of a power outage. But it was inadequate to fight the insurmountable summer heat. If the situation in modern cities was so dismal, I wondered how pathetic it was in lesser known cities and villages. The citizens were quite powerless in this country in every sense of the word.

In this way my initial days in Delhi passed quickly, beyond my control. Soon, it was a week since I’d landed, but Shalini continued ignoring my emails. I had even dropped her a couple before starting from Bangalore and several more since my arrival in Delhi. I reminded her of her promise to marry me the day I landed in Delhi. But she didn't answer any of those. Wasn't she receiving them? By any chance was the spam filter of her office network hyperactive and diverting my emails to her spam or trash folder?

I was at my wits’ end, left with no idea other than keeping on trying her residence phone to take a chance. I didn't want to land at her doorstep yet, only to be turned away by her mother. So I started getting up early in the mornings and furtively peeped out of our balcony to keep a watch on her house and the road below. Finally I was rewarded one day. I saw her drive out in a car to office. So she’d purchased a car. Strange that she didn’t mention it when we discussed about shifting and re-registering cars from one state to another. Ironically, my father had sold his old, shuddering second hand car just sometime ago before it capsized or hurt anyone. But this car was shining and appeared new.

I noted the time she drove out in the mornings and repeated the exercise of peeking everyday from our balcony to confirm that she left at the same time daily. I brought out my new video camera and filmed her clandestinely. But I didn’t repeat the exercise as it didn’t seem right shooting furtively from my balcony. Should I perhaps wait for her near her car the next day? But I decided to keep myself out of sight. First I had to be sure what was going on in her mind.

Finally she answered the phone herself one evening. Her opening words floored me.

“RK, don't send emails to my office account. It’s not meant for personal emails.”

So she’d seen my mails. I stopped breathing and the silence was audible to her over the line.

“Someone can read those emails- the system administrators or our mail staff,” she explained in a softer tone. Well, she did seem to have some sympathy left for me. I wondered if I should feel overwhelmed or agitated.

“I think you're avoiding me, Shalini,” I accused at last.

“I've been rather busy,” she replied with a sincere ring. “I'm sorry, RK, I really am. I read all your emails and have been meaning to reply, but simply couldn't manage. My workplace is chaotic. You've got to be there to believe it. I keep dashing from one meeting room to another- when I'm in town. On the other days I'm traveling all across the country. Being in sales can be quite hectic at times.” She paused as if to consult her watch. “But why are you calling over phone. You're right next door. Why don't you just step in?”

I felt flattered by the invitation. There still seemed some hope left for me. But I shook my head. She’d read my emails. Had she noted what I’d written regarding her promise to marry me the day I landed a job in Delhi? I found it hard to believe that she could be so busy as to find no time to reply.

“I'll come- later,” I replied skeptically, assuming a busy air. “We've some serious things to resolve before that. You've been avoiding replying to my-”

“Don't talk like that. You sound ominous,” she interrupted. “Didn't I take your call today?”

“I should feel flattered, I suppose,” I said sarcastically.

“You're angry, Romeo.”

“I've joined the Gurgaon office of Dynamic Machines quite a while back. Do you remember your promise if I landed a job in Delhi?”

She giggled. “No- shall we talk about it later? I'll call you the next time, don't worry,” she said abruptly and dropped the line before I could remember to ask for her cellphone number.

I felt cheated. She didn't remember anything or maybe she remembered everything but was feigning amnesia on purpose! On top of that she had the cheek to giggle!

Only I seemed to remember her promises. How stupid of me. It wouldn't be surprising to hear some day that she was engaged to someone else. Between us there had been no formal commitment. We never got engaged. Even if we had been, engagements could always be broken. If marriages could be annulled in the modern world, engagements were small fry in comparison.

It would serve her right if I could switch loyalty likewise and go out with another woman. But I’d already tried that several times and failed. I felt trapped in a quagmire, thoroughly hooked to her. Why did one's mind stick so overwhelmingly to a girl's thoughts to the exclusion of everything else in life? I felt like a fly stuck to the deposit of honey at the mouth of a bottle containing the amber liquid, trying to escape. There seemed no easy way out.

The weeks dragged into a month. I wasn't sure if I’d done right by opting for a Delhi posting. In the process I’d only alienated my boss Jayanth Oisa in my new job. In the first place I shouldn’t have quit Eleny, I thought in retrospect. Padam Singh, my boss there, had wanted to promote me as a retention incentive besides hiking up my salary fabulously. I should have gone for it instead of jumping into DM to ferry my way to Delhi. Nothing seemed to be working out right. I needed a break soon, otherwise I’d go mad.

It was time to get back to my homeopathy remedy
Aurum Metallicum
with a vengeance. It did no good after an initial respite. But I was desperate, and changed to a higher potency of 200. I’d read long back that mental diseases usually responded better to the 200
^th
potency or higher. I needed to keep afloat at all cost. My mental prostration was deepening at an alarming pace.

In this way the weeks passed by slowly. I felt utterly alone in this big, modern city of fast cars, flashy houses, rumbling, polluting generators and spectacular malls, and could hardly put my mind to my new job or my new boss's barbs. The long, tiring commute from Delhi to Gurgaon took its toll too, on my physical as well as mental reserves, demolishing me bit by bit.

Jayanth demanded that I remain online on chat on my laptop all the time during office hours. My project team was in Bangalore and I was building up a small team at the new Gurgaon office. He’d ping me on chat randomly. It was easy to figure out his strategy. A prompt response from me told him I was at my desk. The fool took it to mean I was on the job as well. Being physically present at the desk didn’t mean I was also on the job, but that was the fool's method of placing me under surveillance. I might be browsing shopping websites or checking personal mail for all he knew.

Sometimes, such bosses make you feel like cheating the company. You want to get even with your boss and in the process mistake the company’s resources to be the boss's- just like they too forgot that they were merely employees like you and behaved like colonial owners instead, mistaking you to be their personal slaves. I felt like harming the project by neglecting it, as it meant hitting back at the boss, but quickly quashed such thoughts in the bud. My father had taught me to be conscientious, no matter how much the pressure or provocation to act otherwise. Unfortunately my father had not met devils like these in his office otherwise he might have taught me a bit of diplomacy as well.

The last few weeks had been like a nightmare, with no energy or enthusiasm for any activity. Gradually more than two months had passed since my arrival in Delhi. I plodded through my days, feeling listless. I’d wake up in the mornings unrefreshed. The daytime at the office would pass drowsily. It was getting progressively hopeless.

One night as I watched the movie on her on my handycam that I had shot from my balcony, I felt so angry that I flung the handycam away, breaking it. I felt no remorse for my act. Memories were no good till I was authorized to own them. I’d never buy a camera again!

To worsen things, my boss put me through a training program on software quality at a hotel. I felt stuck from morning to evening, looking at meaningless slide shows and hearing nonsense as the speaker shabbily explained software engineering processes. I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was elsewhere, thinking of Shalini.

When I first arrived at my office in Gurgaon, I’d noted with excitement that her office lay in the close vicinity. If she’d not been so heartless I might have taken an auto once in a while during lunch break to reach her office, but gradually felt devoid of any desire to meet her after her obvious avoidance tactics.

I’d been perhaps better off pursuing spirituality and made a mistake by jumping into material life. She was too fast for me. I no longer prided myself in being an intelligent, smart MSITian. She was much smarter.

I repeated the higher potency of
Aurum
again. The effect of the earlier dose had worn off too soon. Maybe I’d picked the wrong medicine for my ailment. At this rate I might never find the correct remedy to treat myself in time. Why was it so difficult to treat oneself, or was it my inexperience with medicine? After all, I wasn’t a qualified doctor by profession.

It was a struggle to plod through the day, so great was my mental prostration. I realized I wouldn’t be able to carry on like this for long. Wearily, I returned to office after the training program on quality processes ended and spent an aimless hour doing little, keeping an eye on my watch.

When she’d proposed to me in Bangalore I’d assumed I’d never need any medicinal remedy to buoy up my spirits again. Absentmindedly I glanced out of the window of my high-rise office building, feeling tempted for a moment. How would it feel to jump down from this height? Would it end all suffering? Wondering, I picked up my laptop when office broke, and make my way down to the office cab. It was time to go home.

I tried diverting my mind into lurid thoughts to get a breather. Frustrated I decided I’d chase Shalini's mother and enjoy her. I had an open offer there. Shalini deserved it. But the thought was nauseating. Life looked bleak and meaningless without her. I flagged an autorikshaw but it was unable to come close to me as a car swerved and almost hit it as it ground to a halt on the curb just in front of the autorikshaw. Today was simply not my day.

It might be much simpler to end my life and get done with the repeated misery. I should have jumped off the building today, giving in to my fleeting temptation. Thoughtfully, I glanced up at the high-rise building again, wondering if I should go back upstairs and find a way to the terrace, or postpone it for another day. The commotion created by the autorikshaw driver diverted my attention.

He angrily got out of his vehicle and started abusing the car. It was a big, luxurious car one usually saw in the movies. Its door opened and the driver emerged. It was Shalini! She waved at me frantically. I didn't recall seeing this car from my apartment’s balcony. This one was much bigger and spacious in comparison and looked sparkling new. How many did she have? As she tried to convince the autorikshaw driver that she wasn’t at fault, I forgot about climbing to the terrace of my office building to jump off it and rushed to the curbside instead. It seemed I was destined to live for some more time.