It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate, of the Delhi airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold.
I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend's wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. This wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batchmates. However, what I did not know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter.
I was almost sure it was she. Same height! Same long hair! Same complexion! Curiosity had my eyes glued to her. Then about 60-odd seconds later, when she turned, she proved me right. My ex-girlfriend stood two places ahead of me in that queue. We had never met after the college farewell.
I tried to reach near her to see her more clearly. She was eagerly waiting for her number in the ‘Q', unaware of my presence.
My heart was beating very fast. But there was no other way to escape the ordeal. I almost reached by her side.
I was just an ordinary human being like anybody else. I could not resist the temptation of meeting my ex-girlfriend. I was hundred percent sure she was Shweta, my ex-girlfriend, my ex-beloved.
I tried to speak to her but could not open my mouth. The cool air flowing outside made no noise. The dry leaves of banyan tree outside rustled. Somewhere an aeroplane roared. In addition, my eyes could not see anything in the day. I was looking at Shweta without uttering any word or blinking my eyes, in all awe and affection. Only she looked more serious, mature and tired than usual, and there were lines of care on her lovely and graceful face.
The huge college campus was surrounded by the thick triangular grove. Far away from the maddening crowd and hustle and bustle of the city, right in the centre of the campus, our abode of worship was located very beautifully in an appealing complex, strictly for the students and teachers who were commandos of punctuality. Teachers and students reached much before then the class timings.
Some used these extra minutes to chat with their friends and some with their girlfriends, and some used these waiting minutes to visit Goddess Saraswati temple situated in the campus. All this was almost unaffordable near their hostels, for fear of reaching the classroom late, apprehension of any unforeseen event generated by the traffic jams on the compressed roads crying for air and space due to massive encroachments.
As Hindus are not very religious and regular in visiting the temple, there were very few to be seen of such devotees in the secular universities in this country. This college temple was free from chaos, crowd, and always looking for visitors and offerings from the devotees but the beauty of this temple was its peace and serenity that added to its spiritualism and mysticism. However, temple, as well as the priest, was always living on penury.
A still, spiritual and meditative tranquillity rested here, but, for a rare soul of the devotee, visiting after a long and silent period of break and desertedness. During these silent moments, the hymns from the temple loudspeaker, mesmerized the students and teachers at a distance along with the melodious chanting of koels, parrots, sparrows and several other birds those sung, shrilled, twitted, or chuckled everlastingly in the courtyard of the temple, while hovering and hanging on the branches and groves of peepal and banyan trees, merrily and safely.
A white coloured cow always strolled very proudly, without any fear, with her young cute white calf, roaming over lush green fields of the college campus, in search of her tasty grass and fodder. Then there were ubiquitous parrots, pigeons, squirrels and the monkeys who guarded the field, trees, campus as their personal empire. Surprisingly, they were least afraid of the presence of teachers and students near them as if they were their friendly companions. They survived and thrived on the offerings from the devotees in form of fodder, bread, fruits, and other eatables, to this sanctuary of peace, harmony and devotion amidst of students, researchers, scholars and professors. The serene air was always fragranced due to the offerings and agarbattis burnt by devotees. In front of the idol of the Goddess, there was an incense stick holder, in which at all times incense sticks kept burning.
I was treated by Shweta as a member of her family. After classes, I used to discuss with her about our studies. Shweta was a very simple and innocent girl. All that she could do was to copy my notes and sometimes give comments about them. But her mind and attention were completely in studies. All practical affairs of life seemed very difficult to her; such a simple matter as getting refreshments, or buying a book or getting an accommodation was a colossal task. Perhaps she nursed a desire to have someone to care for her practical life for her day-to-day needs and protection.
Perhaps Shweta was a neglected girl at home. Knowingly or unknowingly, she was in search of a man to care for her, to love her and to protect her. She herself was a dreamer. Perhaps she dreamt of a suitable man in life. She would have greatly benefited from a man like me who could care for her career as well as fill the vacuum in her heart and life. It was here that a simple and innocent man like me proved invaluable and priceless. She became completely dependent on me and I too gave up all my other work in order to give her all my care and affection.
She stayed in the college for four years for her B.Tech degree and I was in complete charge of all her affairs. Shweta never opened her purse as long as I was with her. But she still kept her room in the hostel. I was permanent with her, for the entire day. We always moved together. Our friendship was famous in the entire campus. I looked after Shweta so well that she almost stopped thinking even about her family. I also felt it as a pious duty to look after her and her needs sacrificing any other work I might have.
She never paid me back for whatever I spent on her. My regular job now, which was very important for me, was reduced to keeping Shweta's company and to please her. Once in a week or so she went up to meet her family. She also started showing extra affection for me. Now, she had become very possessive about me. I was also very careful about her.
As we reached the lecture room, everyone kept throwing glances at us. I was nervous about being alone with my classmates and felt relieved as long as their nature of conversation confined to studies. They would begin with studies but soon are mixed up with our relationship. It made me uncomfortable and I tried to turn the topic skillfully. They all mumbled that I was not the old friend I used to be. It was the reality too. I was losing a great deal of my mental peace. I was obsessed with my love for Shweta.
I was always lost in thoughts of Shweta. I felt lost in memories of the hours and days I had spent with her last or in dreaming about what I'd be desirous to do with her. However, I always felt great hesitation to fulfil my dreams. She was the least of them. She never resisted me but I always had the fear of losing her if I touch her. She was a very nice decent girl, completely dependent on me, probably a girl with an abnormal capacity of trust and love. As our friendship became older, so grew my anxieties and nervousness. Suppose, suppose and suppose? What next? I myself failed to understand and specify. I was gripped in an unknown fear.
It was a very critical and tensed period for me. Even I could not understand my own worries and preferences rightly. I was in a state of utter confusion. I was suddenly seized with panic and indecision, that I did not look handsome enough for my sweetheart to tempt her. Sometimes I was obsessed with the thinking that with a beard I would appear more handsome or if I grew a moustache I would be more attractive to her. The sky blue shirt and blue trousers were being overused and old fashioned. She might shut her door for me because I was not modern enough for her.
Nevertheless, it was not the last idea. She shattered the musical peace by her sweet voice. The temple loudspeaker was still singing the hymns in a melodious tune. Shweta emerged from somewhere, breaking my chain of dreams and fears. She was looking gorgeous and beautiful, clad in a pink silk suit, covering her pointed attracted breast by a thin but embroidered dupatta. She loudly clapped her hands and thumped my back to inform about her arrival. All were surprised or rather jealous, treating me as a beggar or as a mystic Hindu saint getting away, a temporary halt to a pilgrimage.
Her beauty and grace developed an inferiority complex in me. This made me rush to the best tailor near the college to have a few dashing clothes according to the latest fashion. I also started wasting money on haircuts, hair-and face lotions and branded perfumes of all kinds. My teachers and friends were amazed on this transformation of a country boy. My expenses were touching the sky. Money order from my farmer father was my only source of income. My parents always warned me about my mounting expenses. Thanks to my father's caring habits, I had a bank account.
Now the only reality and consciousness in my life were Shweta. All my mental powers were now centred to keep her within my reach, and keep her happy and smiling all the time, which was a very difficult task. I always tried to hang around her all the time, like a loyal guard; but in the hostel, it was very difficult. There was always an apprehension that the clerk at the reception desk and the maids at the hostel were keeping an eye on us and always talking about our relationship. I did not like people talking about us and observing my visit to Shweta's room. I was becoming very self-conscious about this entire affair. I wanted to take Shweta far from the eagle eyes of the people. I did not like the way people looked at us whenever we passed. Even if people laughed, I thought that they were laughing at us. I sometimes toyed the idea of changing the college. However, it was impossible.
Both Shweta and I seemed to be tied with this college for four years. But frankly speaking, I failed to understand the girl, although I was with her all the time. I found as I went on with her that she was fast losing her reserve and innocent manner of her earlier days. She was now more interested in making love with me and of course, but she would also showing excessive love and concern for me. In the midst of my cuddling and embracing, she would suddenly become very aggressive. My knowledge about girls was very poor and restricted to only one. I could not understand her behaviour and changed aggression in love.
Her eyes lit up when we talk about marriage and children. She was deeply interested in marriage and children to complete the lovers' life. Her joy of shopping, cinema, and caresses made her forget that we were still unmarried. In cinema, I helped her to daydream. I found the hint of her love and utilized it to my advantage. She was full of plans. Now, she was in an unbelievably cheerful mood. She greeted me with much more intense warmth than ever before.
Days passed, weeks passed, months passed and years passed. We both reached the eighth semester means last year of the course. We started applying and filling the forms for placements and jobs. I used to fill her forms too and kept on paying the fee for her too. Ultimately, we both got good placements. I was selected for Tata Computer Services, Delhi and she got placement in Caterpillar, Dubai. Our final semester results were also declared and we both passed B.Tech in ‘A' Grade.
Ultimately the departing day came. It was 30 April 2012. Next day we all have to leave the campus to join our companies. It was a very sad as well as very happy occasion. We both were entering a new world, for which we worked very hard. With tearful eyes, Shweta and I departed to our hostel rooms last time.
Next day I waited for Shweta but she did not come nor did she call me. I sat down on the bench in the garden outside waiting for Shweta. I wanted to at least have the last chance to talk to her, to touch her and to give her a departing hug. An hour passed thus. There was no sign of her. I tried to peep into her room. I hesitated for a second. I pushed the door forcefully. Shweta was lying on the bed with eyes shut as if she was faint. She was in a miserable condition.
Shweta opened her eyes. They were swollen. She had large, chirpy eyes, but today they looked tired, bulging and red. She was in a miserable condition. She got up and told me in a heavy, curt and crackling voice, "Don't spend any more time with me. Go back. That's all I have to say." Her voice stammered a little and again sad, "I mean whatever I said. Leave me now."
I was taken aback. The girl who had been in my arms twenty-four hours ago was throwing me out.
The disciplined and punctual punditji resumed their morning prayer with holy hymns, burning of agarbattis and prasad rendering the air fragrant and scented. The bells rang the beats of the holy hymns invoking the Gods……
Somebody thumped my back. It was Shweta. In a very tired and low voice, she said, "Hello Yogesh! How are you? Meet my husband Tahir and son Rehan, clinging in his arms." Now she was Zaib-Un-Nisha.
Even she changed her faith. I breathed with effort. The morning sun was out now; a bright shaft of light illuminated the airport. But for me, it was complete darkness. It was difficult for me to stand on my feet. I sagged down.
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