The Choice

Ajay was busy these days. Inquivesta, IISER-K’s fest was just a few days away. He held a key position in organizing the fest. There was a lot of pressure and responsibility on him. He was determined to give it his best shot. There were a lot of odds to fight against – location of the institute, popularity, lack of confidence within the institute, infighting – the list was endless.  He made himself a promise – to keep his professional and personal lives in separate compartments. He knew that this would strain the already tense relationship between him and Aditi. Yet, a decision had to be made. He made the decision. 

For the past several days, he hadn't even talked to Aditi. He hadn't explained it to her. He only hoped she would understand. Would she?

                               ******************************************************

Ajay was trying to list out points for the meeting with the Dean later that day. Things were moving very slowly. Time was against them. Crucial decisions had to be taken at the meeting. The innings had reached the death-overs.

Ajay’s phone started buzzing. The phone displayed a number, not a name. He wanted to ignore the call.
What if it was some company that had called with an offer for sponsoring the fest?! No. He couldn't miss it. He answered the call.

“Hello! Am I speaking to Ajay?” said a sweet voice over the phone.

It was usually ladies with sweet voices who were put to handle these PR operations. Ajay had learnt this much already. Yet, this voice sounded familiar. Or was it because he had received too many calls like this? He couldn't tell.

“Yes. This is Ajay here” he replied.

“Hey, Ajay! This is Anu….” There was a pause. Ajay did not realize how long the pause was.

                                ******************************************************

It was around four years ago.

Ajay had just entered 1^st P.U. or Class XI. It was a new environment altogether. New friends, new found freedom and raging hormones!

It was during one of the lectures on the first day that Ajay noticed Anu. She was sitting there, talking to her newly found friends, at the top of her voice and laughing gaily. ‘An old trick to attract attention and establish oneself in a new social setting’ Ajay thought. Nevertheless, she succeeded in grabbing Ajay’s attention, if not that of her group!

During lunch that day, Ajay decided to try his luck. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere, earlier?” he asked Anu, trying the oldest trick in the book. Their eyes met.

“I don’t think so. Yet, I am sure that we will be seeing a lot of each other in the future” Anu said, with a wink!

That was the first time Ajay had “felt” for a girl. No. Aditi did not know about this episode of his life. She had never asked and he had not bothered to tell. Similarly, he hadn't tried to dig deep into her history.

Anu and Ajay became very good friends in a very short span of time. They were both brilliant orators and made a formidable team. They played leading man and leading lady in one of the productions by the theatre group in college. Others could see sparks flying between them. They sensed it too. They knew that what they shared was more than just friendship. Yet, neither was ready to acknowledge the fact. Or were they waiting for the other person to take the first step?

Two eventful years passed. Ajay and Anu were talked about by the entire college – for their talent and a lot of other reasons. There were times when Ajay thought that he better tell Anu what he felt. Then again, he felt that would ruin their chemistry. “It is not just one thought that runs through a guy’s mind when he wants to take such a crucial step! Damn those movies which show college love stories to be so simple” Ajay thought, frustrated.

At the end of two years, there came another important decision to be taken. Ajay had to decide whether he would choose IISER-K over an engineering college in the city or otherwise. He decided to go to IISER-K. “Well, at least this decision wasn't that hard” he thought, as he prepared himself to enter into a new realm again.

On the night before departing to Kolkata, a few of Ajay’s friends came to see him off. He decided to call up those who did not turn up. After calling everyone, he called Anu.

“Hey, Ajay! Sorry I wasn’t able to come today. I hope you are all set. I just wish you make it big wherever you go. My wishes will always be with you. And, do keep in touch. I don’t want to lose such a brilliant friend” Anu said, evidently fighting tears. Her voice gave her away. 

Ajay paused.

“Is there anything that you wish to tell me, Anu?” Ajay asked, knowing that this would probably be the last chance.

“Nothing at all. Wish you the very best, Ajay. That is all I want to say. Oh! You might want to get up early tomorrow. I won’t hold you up for long. Goodnight!” Anu said, before hanging up.

Ajay went to bed, trying hard not to think of the conversation that had taken place just then.

Ajay expectantly checked his inbox before switching his smartphone off for boarding the flight, with his parents. There was nothing. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep well the previous night.

When he switched on his phone after landing, there was a message from Anu.

“Ajay, I wasn't able to tell you for the past two years. The truth is that I really do love you. I was always scared that this might come in the way of our friendship.
Best of luck!”

Tears welled up in Ajay’s eyes. He couldn't cry, not in front of his parents, specially.

With a heavy heart, Ajay entered into his life in IISER-Kolkata.

                                ******************************************************

These memories ran like a movie in Ajay’s head.

“Oh! Hey, Anu! After such a long time! How are you?” Ajay asked. He couldn't understand what it was exactly that he felt at that moment.

“I am fine, Ajay. I just called to say that my dad has been posted to Singapore on work, after promotion. So, we are relocating. I just wanted to tell you before leaving. How could I leave without letting an old “friend” know?” Anu said, desperately trying to make light of things.

It pricked Ajay.

“Ajay, is there anything you wish to tell me?” Anu asked, knowing that this might well be the last chance.

Another pause….

Ajay’s heart and mind raced. There had been Anu. Then, there was Aditi. Now, Anu had called. A decision had to be made.

“No, Anu. Absolutely nothing. Except that my wishes will always be with you. I hope you make it big wherever you go. And do keep in touch. I do not want to lose such a brilliant friend” Ajay said, maintaining equilibrium in his voice.

“Goodbye, then, Ajay” she said, before hanging up.

“Goodbye, Anu” Ajay said.

A tear fell on the screen of his phone. He wiped it clean and deleted the call log.

There was another ring.

“Yes, ma’am. I shall be in your office in 15 minutes” he said. It was the Dean. 

A Tailor's Tale

Vishwa left town wanting to explore the world. Before leaving, he asked me if I would join him. I was excited at the prospect and suggested it at home. The very first reaction was that of shock. What met me a few moments later was a barrage of the choicest of abuses - meant for me and Vishwa as well, for being a bad influence on me! I should probably not have acted impulsively, knowing what my family is like.

A few months passed. One day, Ramu's assistant Mani came home and said that Vishwa was back. That was all I needed to escape from the self-imposed house arrest. I left at once.

Vishwa had changed quite a bit. He wore a khadi kurta instead of a t-shirt he usually sported. He sat at Ramu's, with a tea-glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Now, that was a change. Vishwa never smoked earlier. "Hello! You don't seem to have changed after all these months, except for having grown fatter. Your mother should have been pleased seeing you at home all the time. Poor lady!" Vishwa said, his laugh interrupted by bouts of cough.
"Where did you take up this?" I asked, offended by his smoking as well as his remarks.
"Well, this is a gift from our friends in the north. Oh, this is nothing. At some places, I even tried the chillum, but couldn't stand that. My body isn't made for that. But this..." he said, pointing to the cigarette, "...is bliss! It opens your mind. You should try it too". Vishwa offered me his cigarette.
"You have changed, Vishwa" I said, hurt.

We sat there, without talking for a few minutes. Vishwa finished his cigarette and said, "Come with me. Let's go to Siddoji." I followed him, mutely, not wishing to talk.
On our way, Vishwa broke the silence. "I'm sorry! I must have realised that the places and people have changed. I spent the last few months with very rough people. It took me time to realise that I was back with my people and don't need to put on a mask of aggressiveness and offensiveness all the time. I am really sorry" he said, patting me on the back.
It felt better to have Vishwa by my side again.

Siddoji was in his shop, under the big peepul tree in front of the Shani temple. His shop, if you could call it one, was there since my grandfather's time. Siddoji's father and grandfather had been tailors too. My father never bought any ready-made clothes. "What do those factory fellows know about my fitting and choice? I am an independent man. I make my choices" he used to say, every time before coming to Siddoji for getting his shirts and pants stitched.
The shop is a landmark in the town. You can be sure that you will bump into somebody you know at Siddoji's. His "shop" is made of a wooden plank which serves as a roof & palm leaves forming the walls. He has a tailoring machine that looks ancient, a legacy that has been passed on from generation to generation. Not that Siddoji does badly in business. He simply does not want to shift into a proper building. "It does not give a homely feeling like this place" he says. With his earnings, he educated his son and two daughters well and had married off his daughters grandly. Siddoji, now 65, is a man with a fierce spirit of independence. He still works rather than retiring and staying at home.

It had been  a few months since I last visited Siddoji.

However, that day, Siddoji was not working. The constant whirring of the tailoring machine was not to be heard. He sat there looking blankly into space. He had not shaved for the past few days. This was not the usual Siddoji. "Siddoji...Siddoji..." I said and shook him to bring him out of his reverie.
"How are you Siddoji? I haven't seen you in months. Listen, I want a few kurtas stitched. I have decided to give up wearing shirts and t-shirts. Khadi! Yes. Kurtas are the new thing" Vishwa said, excited at his plan of image makeover.

Siddoji sat there, expressionless. "What happened, Siddoji?" I asked. Siddoji held my hand and started crying. I stood there, not knowing what to do. Vishwa offered him a bottle of water and calmed him down. Siddoji drank it and motioned for us to sit down on the benches put up in the shop. "Can you spare me sometime? Will you listen to what I have to say?" Siddoji asked, with a plea in his eyes. Vishwa and I sat down.

Siddoji began. "You know that my son was married a few months ago. Even you had come to the marriage, if you remember. I was the happiest man then. Both my daughters were married. My son had a good job and was married. That was all I needed in life, to retire happily. Yet, I chose to continue with my work. Everything was picture perfect, until around three months ago.
One morning, we got up to find that our daughter-in-law had eloped! There was a note which said 'I am disappointed with this marriage. Don't try to look for me.' We tried to keep things under wraps and contacted her parents. Even they were shocked and decided to lodge a police complaint, despite our requests. But then, the police complaint helped. She was traced in two days, with her former boyfriend. Any other in-laws would have thrashed her. However, we feared that it would only aggravate the situation and respectfully brought her home.
On coming back, in the presence of her parents, we asked her why she had taken the extreme step.
What she did shocked us. She pulled my son out of the room by his hair. Yet, my son stood there like an impotent! "Why are you standing without saying a word? Aren't you a man? Doesn't your blood boil when your wife pulls you by hair and humiliates you in front of your parents and in-laws? Speak up, you bastard!" I said, slapping him hard. Even this did not bring forth any reaction.
"This is precisely why I left him. He is not man enough! He is impotent! It's not just him. Even you people cheated me. Why did you have to marry him when he is useless?!" our daugther-in-law said, venting out her frustration. I couldn't say she was at fault. It was our mistake. Even we didn't know it, though. We apologized to her and her family. We returned the money we had received as dowry and all other gifts we had received and sent her back to her family.
The next morning, I found a letter in my son's bed.

'Dear Mom & Dad,
I know I have been a big failure in life. I am a disappointment to everybody around me. I am a disgrace to the family. I don't want to cause any further discomfort. I shall go away. Do not try to look for me. It will prove futile.
Your Loving Son'

I immediately lodged a police complaint. My wife found it hard to come to terms with the fact that our son had left us. She took to bed within a couple of days, never to get up again. She died within a week. There is a saying in Sanskrit - "Putra shokam nirantaram". It consumed my wife.
Three days later, a policeman knocked on our door, bringing information that my son's body had been found near the railway lines.

It is two months today since my son died. I feel guilty of having murdered him. Had I not slapped him, he would have still lived. Through him, my wife would have still survived. But then, if I had not accepted the reality and argued against it, it would have cast a question on my daughter-in-law's character. Would she have been able to survive with that? Wouldn't I, then, have been responsible for spoiling a young girl's life and probably killing her? I would still have been a murderer."
Siddoji sat silently for a while. The whirring of the machine brought me back to my senses. Vishwa sat there, smoking, looking at the distant sky, lost in thought.

"Now that I have told you, I feel much better. People ask me why I still continue to sit here, stitching, than simply staying home. I cannot stay at home. The images of my wife and son will haunt me there. The guilt will prick me. Nothing of that here. The whirring of this machine reminds me of my duty and keeps unhappy memories away. I meet people and that gives me the will to live; the will to move on. Now, Vishwa, if you could please stand, I will take the measurements..." Siddoji said as he opened his notebook and took the tape.