See You ! Chapter 7

Summer of 1995

She went back to a time when everything happened between her and Akhil. She was a naïve girl of nineteen who had gone to Lady Gopal Das College, an eminent institute for higher studies in the plush South Delhi. She had come home for study leave and almost after a month she had to go back, to give exams of her second year. Although she was in the second year, she was still homesick. She wasn’t alone. There were many in the hostel who belonged to her tribe. They would keep counting holidays when it was due and would be happy  to pack their bags and flee the big bad world of Delhi. Though, it was a different story, they were completely untouched by that world, yet the desire to go home in the home-sick tribe, was too strong.  This sentiment usually echoed in the students from small town. Ashmi was one of them. In Pre-Jharkhand days Ranchi was a far-away town from Delhi and commuting on a painful train called Hatiya Amritsar took almost one and a half day, hence when Purushottam Express commenced, it was the most coveted train to travel for people going to Delhi. She had booked the tickets for herself and her friend Nilofar, the only two homesick people, in the second year of college, who had decided to come to Ranchi for their preparatory leave. That day was unusually chaotic, because to board the train she needed to wake up at 4.30 in the morning. They had intimated the auto driver to come at 5 in the morning, because  Patna-Hatiya ,a connecting train had to be boarded,  which left Ranchi at 6.00 in the morning. Unfortunately on April 2, 1995 the auto-driver forgot to come. The whole family was gripped by sheer chaos. How would they catch the train? And to add to the cup of miseries, senior Mrs Mishra, Ashmi’s mom had overslept.

‘What are we going to do now?’ senior Mrs Mishra was completely at loss of words and actions.

‘We got to find a way,’ Ashmi assured and grabbed a salwaar-kameej on which she could lay her hands on to change. Just of nineteen, Ashmi threw the bag that weighed a ton with books on her shoulders, and decided to walk briskly for 200 metres to reach to the main road, so that she could find a way to go to the station. Her mom ambled behind and her suitcase of clothes was hoisted on her younger brother’s bicycle who was dragging it.  Fortunately, the family spotted a rickshaw puller who was sleeping. He was woken up rather brusquely by Ashmi.

‘Where ever you are going I am not?’ the young rickshaw puller said curtly. The girl was almost in tears. Seeing that something melted inside the young boy. ‘Don’t cry. I am taking you where you have to go,’ he gave in.

She was an ignorant beauty, someone who didn’t know what effect her looks can have on people.

She jumped on with her brick-load of bag, before he changed his mind or finished his sentence. Her mom who had been ambling so far, hopped later. He began pedaling. He wanted to ask many questions, but the presence of Ashmi’s mom had been intimidating her. Yet, he persisted, before the beauty disembarked and he lost an opportunity.  He shot, ‘What made you cry?’

‘I would miss my train,’ she said.

‘Is it important for you to catch the train?’ he continued.

‘Yes, I am going to Delhi to give my exams,’ she answered.

‘Well! You study in Delhi, which class?’ he asked.

‘Second year, college,’ she said.

 ‘Please hurry up, we got a train to catch,’ said senior Mrs Mishra and brought an abrupt end to the enquiry.

Ashmi wanted to thank stars for the rickshaw puller and asked out of gratitude, ‘What’s your name?’

‘Prem,’ he said.

 In those days Prem was the cheekiest name around for boys and Puja for girls.  When they reached platform, it was just five minutes to six and Ashmi scampered to board the train.

 Senior Mrs Mishra asked Prem to wait. He wouldn’t have thought twice about being asked to wait till she returned back from Delhi, but such is life that there is a lot of slip between the cup and the lip.

‘Be quick,’ he wanted to mumble, but he sputtered, ‘Coolie.’ Ashmi thanked him and his day was made. When the mother and daughter reached platform, the train was there and the coolie helped them get in immediately. Nilofar’s mother had worried herself sick. In those pre-mobile days, Ashmi carried the ticket to the train and there was no way, Nilofar could miss her train. She was an average looking girl, but God had compensated for her looks by rewarding her with a razor sharp brain. And, yes, that’s the reason why Ashmi had developed friendship with Nilofar. She was the studious one, who would learn everything sincerely, consult every guide book that the teacher had recommended, would routinely study every day with dedication, yet she could never come first. Even by a whisker she would always come second and she had made friends with Nilofar. The train moved.. Ashmi’s mom sank in rickshaw seat and Prem began pedaling. He had almost lost his heart to the beauty, but when harsh realities of life sank in, the pedals picked up speed.

The train brusquely stopped and Nilofar wondered what went wrong.  She and Ashmi had to catch a connecting train too. ‘Oh! Someone pulled the chain,’ sprang a voice from nowhere and fizzled out. The train crawled once again. ‘Chai. Chai,’ shouted vendors and the girls bought two earthen cups and began sipping the sugary beverage. Ashmi still loved the smell of earthen pots, which Akhil just couldn’t stand. She began recounting the horrors of her day’s journey to Nilofar.

 Around 10.30 the girls got down from the train at a non-descript station of Gomo. Here they had to wait for two or two and a half hour before their connecting train Purushottam would come. Ashmi found a comfortable bench and settled there. Her bags and Nilofar’s bags were around them. They were not at all worried about the luggage. Their bags weighed tons and could protect themselves by the dint of their weight. Ashmi bought the latest issue of Filmfare and leafed through the pages. Nilofar got two soft drinks and they began sipping the sugary syrup that claimed to be a mango drink. Between sipping  and glancing on the magazine, Ashmi looked around, scanning for any nice face of the other gender. 

Disappointment greeted her and her eyes focused back on the magazine. She was in the middle of an interesting scoop when she felt that a pair of eyes was observing her keenly. Woman’s instinct! She chose to ignore it. After all, she was accustomed to it. The penetrating gaze was making her uncomfortable and she decided to go for a stroll. On the station, she found other hostel mates too.

Purushottam Express screeched to a halt and the porters scampered to help them board and settle in the train. The girls disseminated for a while and Nilofar and Ashmi settled in the train comfortably. Ashmi checked her watch, it was going to be two, and she was surviving only on sugary syrups. She and Nilofar pulled out their lunch boxes and dutifully shared their stuff. Senior Mrs Mishra was an expert in packing interesting stuff neatly. From one large lunch box tumbled out many small boxes containing delicious edibles, like poori, aaloo bhaji, besan sev, sweet, pickle, a small tub of mishti doi and two pouches of mouth freshner too. The girls ate to their heart’s content and spread out on the lower berth. Nilofar dipped in her bag and pulled out Economics book, which she would revise with Ashmi.  It was the first exam they had to give in two days time when they reached Delhi, the next day. The girls settled down on the Law of Diminishing Utility and Principles of Demand and Supply. As subsidiary subject, in the second year, the level of Economics was pretty basic and they had already studied it in grade XII, in which they had scored distinction.

Soon, they began to drift in sleep. As it is they had woken up so early, but Ashmi wasn’t able to sleep because a pair of eyes were looking at her keenly. She felt that the same pair had been watching her intently at Gomo station too. It was a penetrating gaze.  Akhil was sprawled in front of her on the opposite side lower berth, and he was talking to a middle aged man. At the same time he was blowing rings of smoke. Those were the days when smoking wasn’t such a taboo as it is today and a smoker could satiate himself in the public. Nilofar frowned at smoke and Ashmi was getting a headache too. But, they didn’t dare to ask him and the middle aged uncle to stop smoking. ‘If only I could get a cup of tea,’ said Ashmi. ‘I can’t see a vendor at all,’ Nilofar said after scanning the surrounding.

 Akhil thought it as an opportunity to impress Ashmi and got up to arrange tea for her. He walked at least five compartments to find a tea vendor. He was made to serve tea to girls. The warm sips of tea relieved headache a bit and Ashmi felt the need to check herself in the rest room. I might be ‘down’,  she thought. 

She mumbled a swift curse to the timing of her periods but nothing could be done and she made her way to the rest room. Akhil thought this as a perfect opportunity to have a word or two with her and made him available outside ladies’ rest room. When Ashmi was done, and opened the door, she saw Akhil lurking around, blowing a ring of smoke. Nauseated that she was at the smell of cigarette and of periods, she wondered, ‘What the hell is he doing outside lady’s room? Was he peeping inside?’

 Akhil’s lips were frozen and he could hardly utter a word, and Ashmi sauntered back to her berth, wondering all the time, what that lanky guy was doing near the ladies rest room. For a moment she thought to ask him directly, but then her courage evaporated and she decided to drift in sleep, which proved elusive. It came in fits and when she woke up almost half an hour later, her head felt heavy. She fished a Crocin from her purse and gulped it down with mouthful of water. Akhil was still sitting on the lower berth opposite to her, but Ashmi chose to ignore him. She pulled out a novel from her bag and continued to read. Nilofar was dutifully reading her hand made notes. Soon, Ashmi realized that she was wasting her time and she too switched on to the notes. In an hour, evening descended and now the girls put down their notes and sat quietly. Akhil was still there. In fact, his berth was not confirmed and he was trying to persuade TT to allot him a berth. As evening gave way to night, girls ate their dinner and slept quietly. The train could reach station at the weirdest hour, which could be as early as four in the morning. In fact, it was notorious for reaching Delhi before time. Nilofar and Ashmi were worried. If the train reached before time, they had to spend an hour or more on the platform because the gates of hostel opened only at six in the morning. They woke up when the morning sun rays streamed on their face and it was six. The train got delayed somewhere. Akhil woke up with a jolt.

Soon, Ashmi would disappear in the crowd and he didn’t even know her name, not even what she did and where she lived. He got to muster courage somehow and talk to her. He forced a silent prayer and made way where the girls were sitting.

Ashmi smirked when she saw him. She had anticipated that he would come and sit and he did. He made himself comfortable and remarked ‘Exams!’

‘Yes,’ Ashmi and Nilofar replied together.

‘Which college?’ he asked.

 ‘Lady Gopal Das,’ they answered jointly once again.

Akhil’s heart skipped a beat. He thought, ‘I am propositioning to the girl in maroon salwar kameej and this studious looking girl is answering. Am I dialing wrong number?’

At that moment Ashmi asked, ‘What do you do?’

‘I am studying MBA in Delhi,’ he answered.

‘FMS,’ she guessed almost sure. Do people study MBA anywhere else too in Delhi

 ‘No,’ IIPM,’ he clarified.

‘Never heard of it,’ she commented deflating his hopes and desires to ask more.

But, he persisted, ‘It’s in Lodhi road.’

‘Actually, we live in the hostel at Lajpatnagar and know very less about Delhi,’ supplied Nilofar.

‘We are only acquainted with the colleges where fests happen and we are invited,’ she said.

 Ashmi could gauge  that Akhil was interested in her, but he didn’t seem to be an attractive prospect. Yes, he fell in the criteria of TDH—Tall, Dark and Handsome. Then she chided herself, ‘I am going too far.’

 ‘Where do you live?’ he asked.

‘In Ranchi,’ girls answered together. They had been instructed by their family to not give away details of their residence to strangers and the rule applied even today. The train screeched to a halt at Tilak Bridge. Had it been moving, New Delhi station was just five minutes away. Unusually, Purushottam Express was late and maybe it wasn’t getting the signal, which was a good omen for Akhil. He had to be quick. If he wanted to see Ashmi again, he had to know at least where she lived.  ‘We all are from Ranchi, but which part?’ he persevered.

Nilofar restrained herself from divulging her address, obeying the age old rule, but Ashmi wished to play along. There was no harm in sharing that.

‘I live in Jawahar Nagar,’ she said.

Nilofar gestured her to be quiet, and at the same time train stumbled violently on New Delhi station. The girls scampered to get their luggage out and Akhil gave a resigned look. He had to go now.

He started peering to look for any familiar face that had come to receive him, normally, it was a ritual that if anyone came from his hometown or gaon as they called in Delhi, someone would go to receive him. Akhil waved his hand when he spotted his cousin. He pulled his luggage out from nowhere--a heavy bag and threw it on his shoulder. Ashmi and Nilofar were trying to keep pace with the coolie and Ashmi felt that sadness pooled in his eyes. Just to cheer him up, she said, ‘see you’ and went further to haggle with the taxi for the fare to their college, once they had settled with the coolie.