by Sudha Nair
Dear Diary, Have I told you about Vivek?
My heart did a cartwheel the first time I saw him. He was walking out of the elevator wearing a crisp white shirt, a tan blazer, and tie. His hair was styled short almost like a military cut; a neatly trimmed French beard framed his chin. He looked straight at me, not averting his gaze. Suddenly this huge cloud of shyness swept over me. I darted into the pantry next door not knowing what to do. And before I knew it, he walked right in there too. I fumbled with the mini-fridge pretending to look for something. Did I just imagine it or did he have an amused look on his face when I turned around? He was still getting his coffee. I closed the fridge and hurried out of there, back to my cubicle feeling all flustered. Moments later, he was passing by. He stopped at my cubicle and said, “Hi, name’s Vivek.” I was completely taken by surprise. And all I did was mumble unintelligently, something about my name being ‘Meera,’ or did I say ‘Mary?’ I hoped he couldn’t tell that I was shy. He smiled strangely and a moment later he left with a “See you around,” leaving me staring at his broad back. And when I mentioned this to Mrs. Gopal this evening, she said I must throw my inhibitions into a hot water tub and be bold enough to talk to the guy I fancy. Dear diary, do you think I can listen to my heart for once? Just once?
Meera stopped writing and put down her pen feeling a rush of red whooshing through her brain. She wrote in her diary every day. It was a practice since she had been a little girl. Meera worked in Mumbai now, renting a single-room suburban apartment on the fifth floor of the building owned by a widowed landlady, Mrs. Gopal, who was happy to treat Meera to a cup of tea every evening and listen as she talked of her day. She sympathised with her, unlike Meera’s mother who had given up on Meera ever finding a man on her own and couldn’t understand why she didn’t even agree to any of the matches suggested by her.
Ordinarily, Meera’s shyness didn’t surface during impersonal interactions with men over the phone – the advantages of working in a customer support centre – but it was a disaster when it came to meeting a man, and that pretty much explained her still single status at 30.
Meera didn’t think she’d ever have the courage to strike up a conversation with Vivek. And then one day maybe she’d hear that he had got engaged like the guy she had fancied in her previous job. She seemed to be headed down the same path of hopelessness this time too.
The next day when she left for the train station to go home, there he was, to her surprise, waiting for the train too. Suddenly a thought struck her. She recalled Mrs. Gopal’s words about throwing out her inhibitions. She just wanted to listen to her heart and take a bold step right then. Without thinking, she jumped into the men’s compartment after him. It was crowded but she managed to stand near Vivek with her back facing him. Soon there were more people around her pushing in from all sides. The crowded train made her feel like the air supply around her was being partially cut off but she was happy as long as she could feel his presence right behind her, the light brush of his shirt sleeve on her sleeveless arms, the faint smell of the cologne he was wearing. He didn’t seem to have noticed her yet.
All she had to do was turn around and say “Hi” but the words seemed stuck in her throat. There was also a man in front of her who was jabbing his suitcase against her knees. She dodged that and waited for a good moment to turn around, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. To her astonishment, it was Vivek.
He was at such close quarters that she could almost feel his breath on her cheeks. He seemed surprised to see her. She peered at his face taking in his lightly creased forehead, his light brown eyes and his delicately curved lashes. She was drawn to his perfectly trimmed beard that oh-so perfectly framed his lips, curled into an “O.” She imagined him leaning in to give her a very public cinematic kiss. She inched her face closer, blood rushing deliriously through her head. And that’s when she saw that he was pointing to his shoes. To her horror she realised that her pointy heels had been digging into them.
“Sorry,” she stuttered.
“Excuse me. I have to get out. It’s my stop,” he smiled, making his way through the crowd to the exit. There he was, leaving her staring at his back yet again. She fretted over what he must have thought of her, coming on to him like that. She felt mortified about facing him again.
She saw Vivek in the pantry the next day, but the awkward memory was still too fresh. He was with a colleague. She didn’t think he’d notice that she’d left without her coffee. She didn’t see him again for a few days.
Dear Diary, I had a strange dream about Vivek last night. We left the office together and walked to the train station enjoying the quiet walk along Marine Drive, a cool breeze ruffling his tie and my dupatta. The ocean waves crashed loudly but my heartbeat felt louder. Our hands touched occasionally, sometimes only the fine hair on his hand tickled mine. When we got into the packed train, he had his arms protectively around me and I stood with my back against the corner, facing him. He was saying something about how he’d wanted to talk to me for a long time. “I hope I’m not crushing you,” he said, every time he bumped into me, pushed by the people moving in and out. I only smiled in response quite enjoying the cheap thrills of a crammed train ride. After what seemed like a long time, we found adjacent seats. It was impossible to talk, with the co-passengers trying to listen intently to every word. So we mostly kept mum, enjoying the ride in silence. Before we knew it, we had reached the very last stop and hadn’t even realised it. We were the last ones to get off the train. And then when we suddenly turned to each other and said, “Where do you live?” almost at the same time, we couldn’t stop laughing at our silly ride to nowhere.
Meera put down her pen, and closed her diary. Sometimes her dreams made her feel better about life. She sighed. She wondered if she would ever overcome her shyness.
The next evening as she was winding up and getting ready to leave, the most unexpected thing happened. Vivek walked right over to her desk. He looked stunning with his blazer hanging loosely on his shoulders. “Why are you hiding from me?” he said with a smile.
“Wh…What?”
“Don’t deny it! I saw you scoot away from the pantry the moment you saw me coming. Am I that terrifying?”
“Yes…I mean, no. I changed my mind about the coffee. Just realised I was…uh…getting late for a meeting.”
“I didn’t realise it was you in the train the other day until I almost reached my stop.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”
“No, it didn’t hurt at all. I’ve been meaning to tell you I’ve seen you before.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, I just couldn’t remember until recently.”
“Where?”
“Weren’t you at Mala’s wedding last month? Where I upset your drink?”
“That was you? You were the one who ruined my ghagra?” She hadn’t recognised him at all.
“Yes. I’m truly sorry again. But, don’t you think we’re even now?”
“No, we’re not,” she said, her shyness momentarily vanishing with the recollection of that ruined evening and her ruined dress.
“Well, could I atone for that accident by walking you to the train station tonight?”
It felt ridiculous the way her heart skipped a beat when a big, warm smile lit up his eyes.
“Maybe,” she said, with an air of nonchalance, inwardly smiling at her sudden boldness and feeling grateful for a second chance. She picked up her bag and followed him out the door into the breezy, young night. And she could almost feel within her how the night might just turn out.
Sudha, a mother of two, is constantly trying to pursue new avenues to push her creative boundaries. A chronic daydreamer, she is in awe of people who have followed their heart. Sudha is passionate about music, fitness, her family, and most recently, writing.
Pic : iClipart
