Three Love Stories

I am going to tell you three different stories. Are you attentive????

“Whom are you going to marry?”

“Shanmugam”

 

“No second thoughts???”

“No”

“What according to you is life?”

“Life??? Enjoy to the most… Live every moment…”

“Okay. Do you think Shanmugam’s family will be happy about this?”

“Why not? I’ll cook for his mom, I’ll help his dad in accounts”

“Then it’s up to you”

“Why do you ask all this?”

“Just… Leave it. Forget that I ever asked you all this”

That was my conversation with Sanjana. A slim, not-so-fair girl with spectacles and a big nose. She has that smile on her lips always. I’ve seen her cry once – the reason: She lost a notebook in which she had notes for the subject, Electrical Machine Design. This conversation took place in the third year of my college. You know, Sanjana is a quite interesting girl. I asked her phone number during a lab hour in the first year. I was the first to do so. But, she didn’t give me. That’s a separate story.

But, Sanjana fell in love with Shanmugam in the first year itself. Love in college is a very tough thing. You need a lot of money. Giving Rs.30 for a friend’s birthday cake would be a big thing. That would hit on your week’s budget. Sanjana and Shanmugam were not exceptions to this rule. Shanmugam, when he goes out with guys, lets people get him tickets too. He was so bad. People sometimes, go to the extent of asking, “he is spending so much for her. Why can’t he get us bus ticket?”

Love is not easy. You need to talk over phone all night. Till 2 a.m. atleast. Some people follow a different strategy. They, wake up at 5 in the morning and talk. When asked, they speak like saints. “Girls… It’s a totally different world. It is too good to be in. Always hard to get out”. When they talk, you feel like they are talking about credit card debts. But, actually love is like that.

Slowly Shanmugam, started to move away from boys and he had his own group – SHE. They had their own world – Garden of Eden - for Adam and Eve. But, there was no fruit of wisdom to be served. There was no serpent, to tell them bad things, atleast. There were only two people in that world and they thought they lived happily.

“So, Shanmugam… Are you in love?”

Silence was the reply.

“Tell me. Are you?”

“Ya da. Why are you asking all of a sudden?”, There was always a ‘da’ in talk between two guys to show their intimacy.

“Who is it?”

“You know who it is! Then, why do you ask me?”

“I asked Sanjana, yesterday regarding this and she didn’t even think to say your name. Why are you thinking so much?”

“She is expressive man. I’m not”

“Ok. You know about your family. Your brother’s was a love marriage. Your family accepted it. Your mother is dreaming about yours. She wants all her relatives to be called and get her lost prestige and dignity back, by conducting your wedding the best way possible”

“Ya! I know. But, see.. I love her a lot”

“Why do you love her?”

No replies… That confirms love. When you have no reply to that question, “why do you love your lover?”, you are definitely in love. When you find reasons, your love has come into a small box. A reason, a simple, petty reason can define your love. Then, it is not it.

He started replying. “Not one da. Many… How do I start? How do I…”. This is also a form of love. He didn’t know to say that simple answer, “For nothing”. I knew, they were into something that’s going to last forever.

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

Karthik is white, with a lot of hair, a thick mustache and owns a splendor. Now, let us look at this forty-six year old man. Love for him, began at home, like charity. Raji, his wife, lived in the neighboring house. Karthik was a malayalee. Raji, a telugu lady.

Raji’s father came one day and told, “See, we have a lot of gold, bought for our girl’s marriage. We have bridegrooms waiting, if Karthik says a ‘NO’ to marry her”

But, Karthik never said ‘no’.

“What is more important to you? This 30 years of life or that five and half years of life?”, asked Karthik’s elder brother.

“That five and a half years”

“There is more than ninety thousand debt, because of you to the family… Ok, leave that. What about the society?”

“Society, when they get a new news, they change to it, forgetting this”

One fine day both went missing. A TVS-50 rode up that muddy road. It was Raji’s father. Now, for the past 5 years, the neighbors have gone apart. He kept the vehicle leaning on to the wall, and came in.

“This was not good for both the families”, said her father to Karthik’s father. But, Karthik’s father kept mum. He could not tell anything. Then fight, knives, long nights, peace talks and finally the girl’s family stopped everything and told, “See, we will never turn back at you. We’ll never see if you are alive or dead. We’ll never come into your life hereafter” - They had not for the past 17 years. All say, it’s the family’s curse, but I don’t believe in that – for they don’t have a child.

Beauty fades. That’s what Karthik didn’t know. Once, my mom’s mom has asked me, “What did he see in her? Is she that beautiful???”. What they’ll never know was that, she was beautiful, once. She was a dream for so many guys.

Karthik is such a sweet man; very nice person. Only if the family and society had accepted his love, his life would have gone in another direction altogether. Once, when I asked him for lift, he told me to get on and rode me till 500 metres before my rendezvous point.

“Are you in love?”

“No… Not till now”, I replied.

“Okay.. That’s fine…”

“Why?”, I asked.

“No, If Indira Gandhi were alive, she’d have told Rajiv Gandhi not to enter Gurudwara wearing boots”

Then, he clutched, geared and accelerated. I could not play anymore. I was bowled out all the three matches. I was thinking about this. Really, has he made a fatal error???

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

You’d call him coward. I’d call him brave. Lot of things happened behind the screen. But, he married her – not his lover – and now has a baby. I went to his marriage. She – his love – had come there, pregnant. Both had tears in their eyes looking at each other.

They were both from the same family. His father’s sister’s daughter was she. But, his mother stood strong. There was small dispute among them. And also these immunity problems, occurring due to marriage from the same family, played its part well. Now, she has a girl; he has a boy. Now, these fellows, twenty years later would say that, the girl is elder.

Whatever... They are happy. They can’t have sex, as Indian culture says so. But, they can see each other and talk on endless topics as they used to over mobile phones* during colleges.

Her husband, books tickets for his sister’s train journey. He helps them when there is a need. It always will happen. There is lot of things to do, if you are neighbors who were in love. You can get newspapers for them; spinach every morning; play carroms on Sunday (chess required brain and cricket can’t include girls).

They, join them in the same school. It is one year’s difference. She’ll learn to ride a bicycle. Then, she’ll teach him. He learns to play Mario and contra and teaches her to play them. He’ll win a lot of games for sure. She will be the Luigi. All the while, the four of them, sit and watch them growing. She teases him, when he cries for those sunday haircuts, those Saturday baths. He learns to play a violin and she learns bharathanatyam.  He learns swimming in the well. He teaches her in the pond. All for a few years, and then a break and then they understand that, this is it and live a life that is better than love.

*timings revised.

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

“So, do you believe that love has to end up in marriage?”, I asked.

“No. It is life. Life need not be like what you told in the third story. But, If it is like that, then well”

“What do you think about, Shanmugam and Sanjana? Should they get married?”

“No just think of his parents. They have already faced one such problem”

“You think of this fellow da”

“You know, he promised, rite in front of my eyes to his mom, saying that he is not involved in any relationship”

“Promises… You believe in that? Fine, tell me… What do you think?”

“See, if everything goes well, then its fine. Otherwise, it is good if they listen to what their parents have to say”

“What about society?”

“Who is that? It is we who formed it. Don’t think sixth sense did it. Ants also have social colonies”

“Why do you say that they have to listen to their parents?”

“Without sex, it is ok. Without the relationship, with hate, how do we live?”

Many times when Gimly and I sit and talk for a long time, we end up in this topic for no reason - Sex. Many people say, ‘we are not bad lovers’, when asked how good lovers they are. What we end up with is “you have to get bad, if you end up there – marriage”

My dear dearest...

“How did you get here?”

“I came riding a bicycle”

“A cycle”, she stressed on the word cycle. “A cycle. All the way, up and down, its four kilometers. Don’t you have sense?”

Mathan let out a smile and said, “If I had had sense, I’d not have loved you!”

“Oh! Really...? I’d have been more happier, then, without much of obsession”

“Now that’s enough! These idiots say there is no ticket at the 8:30 or 9:30 buses. So, get ready to go at 7:30. No much time left. It’s already 6:15”

“Yes!” Anuradha told it with a finality.

She got her tickets reserved and then asked Mathan, “Now tell me. What is that you got to talk to me?”

“It is three days since we talked as in older days. What is happening? Why is this so?” Mathan really cared about Anuradha not talking to him.

“Do you remember a year back, I told you regarding writing an e-magazine regularly? Going on telling that you want to be a writer will never make you one.”

“Yes”, Mathan knew where she was arriving at.

“But, then you said, you have lots of work to do. Didn’t you?”

“I came here to have supper with you! Don’t chase me out”, Mathan tried changing the topic.

“Didn’t you? Answer me first”

“Yes I said so. But, I had a…”

“You had nothing. I know. What was that holy work?”

Now Mathan went speechless! Anuradha continued. “You can sleep at one at night and wake up at six to play online games. But go for a jog? No. Why are you..?” She left the sentence incomplete. But before he could react, she started again. “What is in this f…facebook? You can’t even log out of it? Are you doing something useful in it? Are all your works over now? Now, you are free enough to waste 24 hours a day, and even more if required”

Mathan warned her. “Talk softly. Why are you shouting?”

“I can’t lie. And when truth is spoken, it must sound good”, Anuradha said it with a smile escaping her lips.

“Oh my, thamizhachi. Sound good doesn’t refer to the raise in your voice. Bizzare English”, said Mathan and smiled.

“Now what is your problem?”, she went rigid.

“That’s the question I had in mind. And, telling a lie isn’t new to you”, Mathan said mockingly and hid his smile with great effort. In-fact Mathan loved her lies. Only he could identify, a lie from her, on earth.

Anuradha was a normal girl of a middle class family, just above the poverty line. She had to tell a lot of small lies, even to get out of her home. She had to tell lies for very small things.

Now, Anuradha filled her eyes with tears- the water droplets with power greater than nuclear weapons. “I don’t lie to few people. And, you know who they are”

Mathan wiped her tears.”I know. Come. Let’s eat. I’ve a restaurant in mind.”Mathan knew, he had talked too much.They went to the restaurant. Anuradha was sobbing. Mathan consoled, “Cool Anu… It’s ok”

All the while they were in the bus-stand, outside the restaurant, Mathan’s heartbeat was well above 72. They entered into the restaurant. Anuradha stopped sobbing and was wonderstruck. There were tables for two people to sit, three people and in all such numbers till seven. The dim yellow light gave them enough illumination to check if their food had any spider or cockroach.

The restaurant had no one at 6:45. There were only, those wealthy tea drinkers, who were single.

As they took seat, another group of people came in. They were four in number- all male.

“It’s very cold here”, told Anuradha.

“Talk softly”, warned Mathan. The hotel room didn’t play any music, and any sound was louder than a lion’s roar.

“It’s very cold here”, Anuradha adjusted her voice.

“More… Why are you shouting?” The word shouting was a little longer.

Now Anuradha giggled. Mathan loved Anuradha’s giggles. Mathan smiled. Anuradha stopped her giggles and by then ‘Romaali Rotti’ came and they both ate.

Mathan had the habit of not talking, while taking food, but Anuradha changed him in the near past. They talked about their good old days; lost pencils; spilt ink.

“I’m very happy you are going home. For four days, I will not have any problem. Really happy and…” Mathan made it sound mocking.

“Oh! Then I’m not coming. You’ll be happy forever!” said Anuradha. By then, Anuradha’s Romali Rotti was over. “I’m first”, said Anuradha.

“Talk softly”, said Mathan.

“ssss… I aam sorrrrr…” as Anuradha pulled, Mathan completed his rotti too.

“Talk softly”, said Mathan again.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Cigarette burned his fingers and the bit fell down. He blew in his fingers to make the burn cause less irritation.

Padmavathy was standing beside him. “Coffee”, said the humble, caring wife- who didn’t get a word of love from Mathan.

Mathan told, “Why can’t you be a little louder?” and filled his eyes with tears.

Padmavathy asked, “What happened?”

“I knew a girl named Anuradha. It was not just a ‘know’. It was more than…”

The cup of tea

"Madam" called Siddharth, one of the students.

Malathi awoke from her sleep and looked at him with her half sleeping eyes.

"How long will it take from here?"

"Where is it?", she looked into her unbreakable digital Sonata. "It'll be at least three hours from here", she went back to sleep.

The second class births were hot and they were sweating inspite of the rain outside. It was winter and they were travelling to the capital of the country for an inter-school, national level competition. To be specific 'an aeronautical extravaganza'.

Malathi was the staff assisting them. They were four students- Two teams. Malathi- their physics teacher, a girl from her 'mother-tongue' medium school in South-India; gold medalist in B.Sc., M.Sc. Then, a love failure and an unhappy 'Happy married life'. Today she works for returning the money she loaned for the construction of her house. Today, She and her happily married husband live only to make the next generation live better than them. The thinking she gives, to giving a rupee for a chewing gum, is higher than Everest and vast than Pacific.

The hours, now went in silence and talks of various aeronautical parts and thinking. It was 7 a.m. and the capital welcomed them. Taxi drivers and auto-rickshaws crowded around them. They had to pick up a cab. They had to report at the school before 9 a.m. That left them with no much time after changing. They started their journey.

A board said, 'Connaught place'. As the taxi moved on, they found another board inviting them. "Modern School, Connaught Place, New Delhi". They all elongated their elastic lips for a smile. They got down with all their baggage and looked at the board more carefully.

"At last we're here", said the most traditional person in the group, Raj Varma.

"We paid him to leave us here. So, We need to be here. If we've paid him to take us there, we'd be there", said Thomas not even knowing, that the statement was unnecessary.

As the sun rose to top and set in the west, they had won enough awards to let their school's name be known there.

Malathi was getting a headache. She was reminded that she had no tea in the morning, in all this hurry.

"Mam, We have come to Delhi and we must not return without being to McDonald's", said Vinayak.

Malathy looked into her wrist watch. It was 6:28 in her unbreakable digital sonata.

"OK", she said in reply, keeping in mind, the return train is at 21:30 hours and also that her headache was growing bad.

They left Connaught place at 6:30 p.m. and a taxi took them to McDonald's.

The menu card was given and those students who had never looked out of their car window during a journey, ordered almost everything the menu had.

"A Pizza"

"A Chicken..."

Malathi had never seen these things. She got the menu and the teacher got to be a student now. Her students explained her about every dish in menu card- What it was sort of...

More than the disgusting explanation, it was the rates that the students told, that made her dizzy.

She looked into the column, with heading 'tea'

Iced tea with lemon

Canadian iced tea

Australian tea

Lipton milk less Tea

Special McDonald's

Aroma Sinensis

Camelia sweet delight

The last one sounded more like an ice-cream to her. The bullets before the news were looking great. and those black bullets on the red background was more good looking. Her headache grew worse.

She ordered. "Tea", she said and smiled to the waiter.

After she could wait no longer a cup of milk, sugar cubes and tea bags arrived. She was in a state of shock. "Is this restaurant or kitchen?" asked Malathi. When Vinayak told her that tea was served this way in this sort of restaurant, Malathi was shocked. She tried to make a decent tea, but something was missing. Her headache grew even worse. She called the man who served it, and gave it back to him saying, "Please give me tea". he tried his best to argue, at last he had to do the mixing.

Even then it didn't taste like tea. She held her head and rested.

By the time Pizza was shared and eaten, it was 8.00 p.m.

"Long supper", said Malathi.

"Thought it was a dinner", told Vinayak.

"I thought both were the same", said the teacher.

"No", said Siddharth and explained it to her in detail.

"OK. I happen to learn a lot of things from you guys. Its time, Lets leave", they paid and Malathi looked at the bill only after getting out of that place. The tea her added more to here fine headache.

By the time, they reached station, it was 21:15 and they hurried to the coach position, and got seated. Train would leave in 5 minutes, Malathi's headache was growing unbearable. She would have cried then...

Students arranged the luggage in correct positions.

"Madam, your supper!", Vinayak brought a box of chappathis.

"Chaaai... Chaaai..." shouting so, a man walked along the platform.

"Kitna?"

"Paanch Rupya!", said the seller.

Her headache was half gone. She smiled at the five rupees tea, and gave a weird look to all her students.

After a hour and a half, all started to play cards...

If only she had...

An engineering college...

Second year...

It was the time for all these transfer and lateral entry candidates to get in. It was mid-july, and it was talk of the class-room about a girl, who would join them, later the next month. Lateral entry boys and girls came. Being new to the flock, they were enjoying this a little less. They were, not like the general lateral entry students. Each were interested in many different things, but none was studious and technically strong.

One was interested in making friends and hang out with them. One was a girl and was interested in films. She would never miss a single film of “Vijay', which released at a rate of four in a year. And the other guy was very interested in reading and understanding about sex. He used to read a lot, comment and even teach guys poor in 'that' knowledge. Eventually, the latter was named 'vatsyayan'- the man who wrote 'Kama Sutra'.

But, the girl who will come on transfer, was getting more attention than anyone who had already come.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # #

“It is because of two reasons. 1)many girls in our class are 'not-so-good' type- as far as visibly concerned 2) The few who came in the 'beauty' quota, would not open their mouth, in the fear of being loved”, said Govind, the Class Executive. He was the leader of the think tank for 'such' situations. He always had a text book way of answering and was to the point.

“But our guys keep talking to them. It never concerns them, if they are one among 'many' or one among 'few'”, replied the official comedian, seriously.

“The seriousness would be due to: 1)unavailability of girlfriends or 2)his already close friend not talking to him” thought the head of the 'think tank'. He even thought in a textbook fashion. “Have you seen anyone talking in public? Take our classroom. Everyone knows our guy Thirunavukkarasu talks to Aswathi over phone for hours. But have you ever seen them talk in person?” The head made everyone think.

Viswa called back the silence.

“It all depends on their mind. 'Heart' is the most important thing. Its very important that the people who talk, understand each other. Understanding...” as he pulled it longer, the only other person, who had been silent, started to speak.

“i'm going to give an attempt. Love is blind. Let it be even all those 'negative to senses' thing. A try... If it doesn't work, i don't worry...” Prem delivered his speech with a smile.

“If it did???” Govind, the executive spoke. If it was someone else, it was no worry for Prem. It now came from the best thinker.

The door was not locked. Vatsyayan entered the door, pushing it hard with his left hand. His right hand's middle finger was in the centre hole of a DVD. “How to ...”, as Vatsyayan continued, all except Prem turned to him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Their excursion in second year was in the month of August. Prem's first plan sank in mid-sea. He had to wait. News spread that she was from 'Neyveli'. The couple of boys, also stood in race with Prem. They even boasted about the beauty of girls in their district. It made Prem even more enthusiastic. Prem was adamant. He grew more romantic, senseless, shameless and courageous. He wanted her love. He was waiting all day for her arrival.

Days went by... August was coming to an end...

Finally, August came to an end...

# # # # # # # # # # # # # #

It was september.An engineering mathematics class.

“Application of partial differential equation, finds place in...”

“May i get in sir?”

“You are too early for the next class. ...In temperature determination, curve fitting and...”

“Sir, I'm a new student to this class” Prem was the firs to look at her. “Sorry sir. Had a small difficuilty in finding out this class room”

She was wearing a chudithar, a green and yellow with the same coloured shawl. Her hair was single plaited, clearly combing it from front to back. She was of the correct size for a twenty year old woman- not thin and not fat- was fair and she found her spot in the fouth bench. There was only a walk gap between Prem and ...

“Whats your name? Introduce yourself to the class”, said the professor, not revealing his liking to know the girls name.

“I'm Ishwaryaa. I'm from Neyveli. Did my Higher Secondary in Cluny, a famous school in the township. I was born in Kerala. Brought up in Neyveli. My dad is an Engineer in the NLC”

Her english was great. Prem felt like she sung. He was happy that, he had already fallen in love with a very beautiful and smart lady. Now it was all about expressing his love.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Something hit him. It took some time to realise he was dreaming. It was the smallest broken piece of chalk in the hands of the professor.

“...curve fitting and... curve fitting and...” he repeated it as 'Joker' tells to 'Gambol' an 'The dark knight' and stared at Prem.

Someone came to rescue. Prem didn't bother. He was happy about the disturbance.

“May i get in Sir?” Prem got time to look at his saviour. A girl.

“You are too early for the next class” Professor turned to Prem. He put his head down.

“Sir, I'm the new student to this class. Had difficuilty in finding this room. I'm a day-scholar. I reached here...”

“Thats enough. Get in... Introduce yourself” Prem was startled with all the world's shock in his eyes. It was not a song, it was not a green and yellow chudidhar. It was a miniature model of, of... He couldn't even tell an animal for reference. Prem had no words. He no more cared for the introduction.

Finally he got the simile. The “Unknown animal”, with the tortoise shell glass and hell a lot of pimples on her face, that were not visible for her dark colour had spoiled his two months of imagination.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Days went by...

Govind's words were ringing in his mind... “If it did???” and it did... Saddest part for Prem was what Viswa told him. “Even dark girls have heart. Try to understand her feelings, buddy. All cannot be Aiswarya Raai. Some have to live with Ishwaryaas too”

# # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Days went by...

With Prem's abnormal behaviour, Ishwaryaa left him. She no more talked to him. She never asked him why!!!

If only she had...