It was a Sunday afternoon. After a long time, a Sunday felt so boring. All these days, there was some sort of news on TV all the while. And Sundays meant extra airtime for all those endless political debates. The country was going into its biggest election in history, which meant there was no dearth for histrionics. Name calling, rallies, manifestos - everything was dissected and torn into shreds by the so-called pundits on all TV channels. Not that I paid heed to whatever was spoken. It was sheer entertainment to watch these pundits who might never, ever meet the people they talked about. Now that all this was over, Sunday seemed empty. I decided to do the only logical thing - Vishwa!
It had been quite sometime since I went to Vishwa's house. We met at Ramu's or some other place. He never invited me home. However, that didn't mean I wasn't invited at his place! Such was the understanding between us. That day, however, what I saw surprised me! I always assumed Vishwa was lazy. Yet, there, I saw him cleaning his room. "Welcome! Sit down while I clean this place up" he said.
I went and sat on the only bed in the room. His room, by all standards, was sufficient for a bachelor. A single room with a kitchen and bathroom. It was luxury!
Vishwa had so many books in his cupboard that needed dusting. But what caught my attention was an old, steel trunk that lay in one corner of the room. It seemed ancient!
"Vishwa, how did you get hold of such a trunk? I mean, it looks quite old. If am not wrong, you can't have inherited it from someone. Then how did you get it?" I asked, unable to contain my surprise.
"Got it second-hand. I just loved the air of antiquity around the trunk, That's why I bought it" he said, continuing to dust the books and his cupboard.
"Can I have a look at it?"
"Sure, go ahead."
Having obtained his permission, I went to the trunk, curious about its contents.
There were some old clothes in it and some more books. In between those clothes, there was an envelope. To one corner, there was a small sticker of a rose. A letter, that too in an envelope with a sticker of a rose, in Vishwa's trunk? Fishy!
"Vishwa, can I read this letter?" I asked.
"Go ahead. Read it and if it interests you, I will tell you the story behind it" he said, increasing my curiosity.
I opened the letter. It was written in a beautiful hand.
"Dear Preeti,
I came to your shop to get a photo of mine captured. While returning I realised that it was not just a photo but my heart as well, that had been captured. Your father converts negatives into colour films in his lab. Will you convert this life of mine into a colourful one? All I dream of, is to see a photo of you and me together in a gold-edged frame to show our kids. Will you let me realise this dream?
Yours
Vishwa"
"Vishwa, what's this?" I asked, surprised that "forever alone" Vishwa had such a story.
"Let me tell you. Sit down" Vishwa began, having my complete attention, as usual.
"It was all a few years back. I had just turned 18. I moved out of the orphanage where I was and decided to make my own life. I happened to come across this photo studio while moving around the city. Outside the studio, there was a framed photo of one of the cine-stars. On seeing it, I decided to get a photo of mine clicked.
I walked into the studio. At the bill-desk sat this lady - beautiful she was! She had big, round beautiful eyes! Those were enough for me to fall for her! I was about to talk to her and introduce myself, when, like a villain, her father, the photographer, entered.
Though I wanted to get a photo clicked, I just asked the rates and left that day. I would get an extra day to meet her and try my luck!
"The next day, I took extra care in getting ready. I had to get a photograph, of course. But more important was meeting her. After the photo session - a single photograph, actually - was over, I went to the bill-desk.
"What's your name?" she asked.
I was elated! She had made the first move of asking the name! "You tell me yours first. Ladies first!" I said, trying to be "the man"!
"Hello! It is your photograph that was captured, right? I have to write out a bill for that. My name is not required for that!" she said, bulldozing the castle of my dreams in one sentence!
"Oh! Vish...Vishwa. I am Vishwa" I said, in a low voice.
She wrote out the bill for the photograph - what a beautiful hand and handwriting as well! - and I left the studio, dejected.
"My name is Preeti" she called out as I was about to leave. I, then, thought I heard trumpets and drums rolling somewhere!
"The third day, I went to collect the photograph. Her father was busy clicking photographs for some bride-to-be. I used this chance to talk to her. Her laugh had a musical ring to it, or so I felt! I must say, she was of a progressive bent of mind! Those were days when girls weren't given much freedom. Yet, this lady handled the billing and accounts of her father's studio, interacting with all and sundry. At times when a salwar-kameez was seen as unorthodox, she wore jeans! She said that she had tried wine as well, of course without her father's knowledge! Progressive!
I had collected more than just my photograph that day!!
"On the next day, I went to the studio on the pretext of giving my photograph to be framed in a pattern similar to that of the cine-star that was outside the studio. I think the photographer kept an eye on me the whole time that day. I was careful not to overdo anything. So, I just exchanged a few courtesies with Preeti and left.
I was told that I had to wait a week or ten days to get the photo framed. "NO!" I could hear my heart scream! Would I have to wait ten days before seeing this lady again, this lady who had occupied me ever since I set eyes on her? However, I had no option! I lacked the guts to go to the studio without any work, just to talk to her, that too in the presence of her father! Her father was a tall, well-built man. He sported a huge moustache that made me shiver! I remembered Preeti saying that he was a former army man! I resigned to my fate!
"After ten long days, I went to the studio. I had this letter - the one you are holding in your hand now - ready. I was to propose to her that day. I had mustered a lot of courage and decided that I would do it. I decked myself up like never before that day.
I entered the studio - hands trembling, legs shivering, voice quivering. Preeti was not around. I searched but couldn't see any trace of her. A young boy, probably my age, had replaced her at the bill-desk. The moustached-man came out with my framed photographed. I picked up courage and asked "Sir, where is Preeti?". I thought he would pick me up with one hand and throw me out of the studio for that! I was a puny lad back then!
"She was married off just a couple of days back" he said gruffly.
I was jolted! How?! She hadn't said anything about her impending marriage? Was she flirting with me all the time while I kept building castles in air? I was hurt!
"Really?! I didn't know that!" I said, controlling the flow of my emotions!
"We didn't either! It happened all of a sudden. My sister's son came back from America. They said that they liked my daughter to be married to him. It was a simple marriage at the registrar's office. They will be leaving to America in a few days. By the way, why do ask all this?" my "ex- would-be father-in-law" asked. I left without answering....."
Vishwa stopped, probably feeling a little heavy-hearted.
"Vishwa, then why do you preserve this letter? Won't it prick you everytime you see it?" I asked. I felt sorry for him!
"No. I have preserved it because it holds memories that warm the heart and flow down as a couple of tears once a while! I have told you a story of an infatuation and two stories where I received proposals. But here, I really felt special about Preeti. I need this letter to remind me that I too had a love story. Come. Let us go out for a walk" Vishwa said, neatly placing the letter back into the envelope.
It had been quite sometime since I went to Vishwa's house. We met at Ramu's or some other place. He never invited me home. However, that didn't mean I wasn't invited at his place! Such was the understanding between us. That day, however, what I saw surprised me! I always assumed Vishwa was lazy. Yet, there, I saw him cleaning his room. "Welcome! Sit down while I clean this place up" he said.
I went and sat on the only bed in the room. His room, by all standards, was sufficient for a bachelor. A single room with a kitchen and bathroom. It was luxury!
Vishwa had so many books in his cupboard that needed dusting. But what caught my attention was an old, steel trunk that lay in one corner of the room. It seemed ancient!
"Vishwa, how did you get hold of such a trunk? I mean, it looks quite old. If am not wrong, you can't have inherited it from someone. Then how did you get it?" I asked, unable to contain my surprise.
"Got it second-hand. I just loved the air of antiquity around the trunk, That's why I bought it" he said, continuing to dust the books and his cupboard.
"Can I have a look at it?"
"Sure, go ahead."
Having obtained his permission, I went to the trunk, curious about its contents.
There were some old clothes in it and some more books. In between those clothes, there was an envelope. To one corner, there was a small sticker of a rose. A letter, that too in an envelope with a sticker of a rose, in Vishwa's trunk? Fishy!
"Vishwa, can I read this letter?" I asked.
"Go ahead. Read it and if it interests you, I will tell you the story behind it" he said, increasing my curiosity.
I opened the letter. It was written in a beautiful hand.
"Dear Preeti,
I came to your shop to get a photo of mine captured. While returning I realised that it was not just a photo but my heart as well, that had been captured. Your father converts negatives into colour films in his lab. Will you convert this life of mine into a colourful one? All I dream of, is to see a photo of you and me together in a gold-edged frame to show our kids. Will you let me realise this dream?
Yours
Vishwa"
"Vishwa, what's this?" I asked, surprised that "forever alone" Vishwa had such a story.
"Let me tell you. Sit down" Vishwa began, having my complete attention, as usual.
"It was all a few years back. I had just turned 18. I moved out of the orphanage where I was and decided to make my own life. I happened to come across this photo studio while moving around the city. Outside the studio, there was a framed photo of one of the cine-stars. On seeing it, I decided to get a photo of mine clicked.
I walked into the studio. At the bill-desk sat this lady - beautiful she was! She had big, round beautiful eyes! Those were enough for me to fall for her! I was about to talk to her and introduce myself, when, like a villain, her father, the photographer, entered.
Though I wanted to get a photo clicked, I just asked the rates and left that day. I would get an extra day to meet her and try my luck!
"The next day, I took extra care in getting ready. I had to get a photograph, of course. But more important was meeting her. After the photo session - a single photograph, actually - was over, I went to the bill-desk.
"What's your name?" she asked.
I was elated! She had made the first move of asking the name! "You tell me yours first. Ladies first!" I said, trying to be "the man"!
"Hello! It is your photograph that was captured, right? I have to write out a bill for that. My name is not required for that!" she said, bulldozing the castle of my dreams in one sentence!
"Oh! Vish...Vishwa. I am Vishwa" I said, in a low voice.
She wrote out the bill for the photograph - what a beautiful hand and handwriting as well! - and I left the studio, dejected.
"My name is Preeti" she called out as I was about to leave. I, then, thought I heard trumpets and drums rolling somewhere!
"The third day, I went to collect the photograph. Her father was busy clicking photographs for some bride-to-be. I used this chance to talk to her. Her laugh had a musical ring to it, or so I felt! I must say, she was of a progressive bent of mind! Those were days when girls weren't given much freedom. Yet, this lady handled the billing and accounts of her father's studio, interacting with all and sundry. At times when a salwar-kameez was seen as unorthodox, she wore jeans! She said that she had tried wine as well, of course without her father's knowledge! Progressive!
I had collected more than just my photograph that day!!
"On the next day, I went to the studio on the pretext of giving my photograph to be framed in a pattern similar to that of the cine-star that was outside the studio. I think the photographer kept an eye on me the whole time that day. I was careful not to overdo anything. So, I just exchanged a few courtesies with Preeti and left.
I was told that I had to wait a week or ten days to get the photo framed. "NO!" I could hear my heart scream! Would I have to wait ten days before seeing this lady again, this lady who had occupied me ever since I set eyes on her? However, I had no option! I lacked the guts to go to the studio without any work, just to talk to her, that too in the presence of her father! Her father was a tall, well-built man. He sported a huge moustache that made me shiver! I remembered Preeti saying that he was a former army man! I resigned to my fate!
"After ten long days, I went to the studio. I had this letter - the one you are holding in your hand now - ready. I was to propose to her that day. I had mustered a lot of courage and decided that I would do it. I decked myself up like never before that day.
I entered the studio - hands trembling, legs shivering, voice quivering. Preeti was not around. I searched but couldn't see any trace of her. A young boy, probably my age, had replaced her at the bill-desk. The moustached-man came out with my framed photographed. I picked up courage and asked "Sir, where is Preeti?". I thought he would pick me up with one hand and throw me out of the studio for that! I was a puny lad back then!
"She was married off just a couple of days back" he said gruffly.
I was jolted! How?! She hadn't said anything about her impending marriage? Was she flirting with me all the time while I kept building castles in air? I was hurt!
"Really?! I didn't know that!" I said, controlling the flow of my emotions!
"We didn't either! It happened all of a sudden. My sister's son came back from America. They said that they liked my daughter to be married to him. It was a simple marriage at the registrar's office. They will be leaving to America in a few days. By the way, why do ask all this?" my "ex- would-be father-in-law" asked. I left without answering....."
Vishwa stopped, probably feeling a little heavy-hearted.
"Vishwa, then why do you preserve this letter? Won't it prick you everytime you see it?" I asked. I felt sorry for him!
"No. I have preserved it because it holds memories that warm the heart and flow down as a couple of tears once a while! I have told you a story of an infatuation and two stories where I received proposals. But here, I really felt special about Preeti. I need this letter to remind me that I too had a love story. Come. Let us go out for a walk" Vishwa said, neatly placing the letter back into the envelope.
