Chapter 3: Jab We Met

"I am late. Give me my bag, I need to rush.", I shrieked to my room-mate with horror as I looked at my watch. She always borrowed my bags and clothes and forgot to return them. Annoyed by the little interest she showed, I snatched my bag from her side of the bed and emptied it on her table; hurriedly threw my books into my bag and left for British Council.

I went there for my classes for more than 3 days a week and yet, I needed to go there to fetch another book for me to read on the weekend. My room-mate had called me crazy for traveling for 35 minutes just for a book, when I could have easily waited for 2 days and picked it up on Monday. I passively agreed that I was crazy and left.

Hurrying to catch a metro for Rajiv Chowk from GTB Nagar, I didn’t even have time to get into the ladies compartment. On a Saturday morning, metros were usually running empty, so I didn’t really regret it. Oblivious of the life-changing-moment I was going to experience in a little while, I was busy saying goodbye to the book I had just finished reading again. It was a book I had savored reading every word of and relished each moment of its company, repeatedly. I was only too busy to notice Shashank who sat just opposite to me and supposedly found it interesting to see a girl smiling looking at book.

“Gone with the Wind”, he read the title of the book aloud. A stranger as he was, I decided to ignore it. Realizing that it was stupid to talk from opposite seats, he came and sat on an empty seat beside. I suddenly regretted the idea of having taken this compartment. I always travel in ladies’ compartment.
 

Silly me! 

I kept quiet. I was too meek and timid to object.

“Did you like that book?”, he asked . “Yes”, I said to keep it short. “Who was your favourite character: Scarlet or Rhett?”, He asked. I was impressed that he had read the book and I would have liked nothing better than discussing the book. But with a perfect stranger? Not really.

I did anyway. And that discussion lasted forever. I lost track of time and even forgot to get down at Rajiv chowk. And I never got to know what Rajiv Chowk metro station looked like on a weekend, because I never got down. I only realized that when I reached AIIMS metro station and panicked.

Too scared to admit that to him, I decided to get down at the next station without appearing to be a total idiot. As I put my stuff together, he realized I was going to get down. “It was really nice knowing you, …? I don’t even know your name after sitting beside you for half an hour. Don’t you find it weird?”

I smiled. “No, it isn’t weird. And you don’t know me. We know Rhett and Scarlet and you might as well call me that. Is that alright, Rhett?”, I said and beamed with pride about my witty remark.

He giggled and I got off the train. He followed and it was scary. “Don’t you think this story would never have been written if Rhett and Scarlet had not found each other, again and again?”. 

I had never spoken to a guy about my favourite book before. I had never been followed by a guy out of the metro before. I was never asked my name by a guy and never so persistently. I was nervous throughout the conversation and never before this moment had I felt more needed . I have always had a difficulty in forging relationships, but this one, though not yet a relationship, seemed easy.

He noticed that I did not know where to go, and offered to help. No stranger had ever been this nice. He seemed friendly but, but being friends with him would have been against my better judgment. So, torn in between the two emotions, I was scared to betray myself and lose control of the whole situation. On top of that, I couldn’t find my way out of that metro station, I lost my temper. I looked at that weird man and screamed. “Leave me alone. Why are you following me? I know you are being nice but why? I was supposed to get down at Rajiv Chowk but, because you distracted me, here I am at a station I don’t know and I don’t know where to go!”. He looked down at the floor and I think he was amused at what he had just done. In a few seconds I realized my mistake of having shouted at him. I apologized and he calmly pointed to the staircase to get to the other platform. I smiled apologetically and thanked him. When I turned around to walk away, he said “I will find you Scarlet. It will be of help if you could atleast give me a first name”. There was no way I was going to do that. I turned around and lied, “Find me, stranger. My friends call me Disha”. “I am Shashank, I thought you would want to know.”, he screamed after me.

That said, I left with a million thoughts in my head and yes, I never went to the library that day. I wanted to spend some more time with this special book.

Chapter 2- A lot could have happened over an icecream!

"I like vanilla, what's wrong with it?", I replied to a rather insignificant question with another insignificant question. What else could I say to a guy who was a perfect stranger. On our last meet, a few days ago, that is exactly what we were, perfect strangers. I could not call him that now, though.

In a rather unlikely situation, we had met by what people would call "chance", I would call it good fortune. But, that is another story.

I had never expected to meet him again, but he had found me.

I was happy beyond description. But, I hid it all. From him and from myself, there was no way I was going to raise my hopes. I was completely convinced that this was somebody else's story, and I was just in it for a side role. There was no way that anything exciting could ever happen in my dull life.


Things seemed to be spinning around though, here.

"What is wrong with vanilla? It is so plain, to begin with. On top of it, does it even have a flavour"? I can't even recall the last time I had one. Give it to me, I need to know what fascinates you so much with this white thing." He said, as he snatched my cup.

It is weird. Whoever told this guy, I wanted to share my ice-cream!

"You don't mind it, do you?", he said as he ate a spoonful. "Yeah, I still don't get it. You should tell me. You have been quiet all this while. Is something wrong?"
 
"Of course, something is wrong. You are eating my ice-cream and about the flavour, I like vanilla because it is the closest to simple one can get."

"Did you know that the more a person likes simple things, the more complicated he/she is?", he remarked casually.

Yes, I am complicated but he could not have known that. He hardly knows me!!!

"So, how did you find me?" I changed the topic to stop him from elaborating on that one, and more so because, I was really curious.

"Oh that! I didn't have to do much. You said you were going to Rajiv Chowk last time. All I did and could have done was to hang around this place a little more often. I deserve to be rewarded for my effort., he winked as he said. He wanted to know my real name.

I had lied the last time, and he knew it.

I was quiet. It was his turn to change the topic. "We should sit for a while. Let this be our first date!". He said, as he pulled out a chair for me. My eyes became moist and all I wanted to do was hug him at that moment. I shook my head and looked at my watch, it was just 5 minutes until my class started.

I have to make the most difficult choice of my life. Sit here for a dream date(my first date!) or attend a boring class. I would hate to be disappointed in this one. The class would be a better option.

"My name is Deepali Singhal. Find  me again.You can do that, I know." I smiled a forced smile and reached out to grab my ice-cream from him. "I get to keep the ice-cream atleast. I think I like vanilla. It isn't that bad.", he said as he clutched the ice-cream close to himself.

I smiled and left for my class. I knew this class would be point less, all I would think of would be of this weird gentleman Shashank, who had come out of nowhere and spiced up my life.

Chapter One-Perfect Strangers

Love stories are a rather sad concept to me. I am one of those people who have never had one. Never one of those people to be proposed by a million men, never one of those a guy has ever fallen in love with at first sight, I have always been jealous of all my girl friends. Yeah, it is a rather nasty thing to say but, when you have never had something your friends can take for granted, you are bound to feel that way.

It is no justification. Just a confession, perhaps.

There are always two girls in a movie, the main lead and the best friend or the ex-girlfriend, may be. They have a story too. But, their side of the story is never told, never talked about, never made movies about, because for some stories, there is no "happily ever after" ending.

My line of thought was interrupted by a guy who excused himself after he almost bumped into me. "It is okay", I said and moved towards my destination.

Rajiv Chowk Metro station is always a crowded place.

I wonder if it is just as crowded on weekends.

I spotted a couple through the corner of my eye, I sighed. The tragic trail of thoughts came back to me.

I have never been there. I have never had a guy to pull a chair for me to sit in. It must be a happy feeling.

I reached my destination, an ice cream parlor I visit almost every time I am at the metro station which is almost everyday these days. I switch metros to get to my classes at British Council, here.

"A vanilla single scoop in a cup, please", I said. The guy seemed to be busy and did not hear me. I repeated my order, another guy heard me.

"Not many people have vanilla these days. You seem old -fashioned", came a voice from behind me. I looked around and found a familiar face.

He smiled at me, and I smiled back. He hugged me, caught me off guard. I hugged him back. I knew it would be rude not to.

"So, you found me", I said. "I had to.", he said with the most charming smile I had ever seen.

"One black current, please", he said to the guy who held out my vanilla.

All my stupid, boring and tragic thoughts vanished into thin air as he offered my vanilla to me.

I want to loose myself sometime...

I want to loose myself sometime,
let go of all inhibitions,
loose control of my tongue,
speak out aloud,
all that's in my heart.

I want to tell the world,
what I think,
who I am,
but nobody's listening.

I want to loose myself sometime,
to someone who wants to know,
to somebody can't wait until the morning,
to know what I have to say,
to somebody who wants to know,
what is on my mind,
to somebody who wouldn't care,
if it was right or wrong,
to somebody who would hear me,
and not judge.

I want to loose my self sometime,
to somebody to whom my words
are more than just that,
to somebody, who doesn't think he knows me,
words loose meaning otherwise,
to somebody who won't kiss me
to shut me up,
but to somebody who would kiss me to let me know
that he is, and will always be there with me.

I take time before I speak,
he will know that,
he will know that his opinion is important,
and wouldn't impose it on me.

He will know, for every word I speak,
he had to inspire a confidence,
he and only his words could have.

I want to loose myself sometime,
let go of all my inhibitions,
loose control of my tongue,
speak out aloud,
all that's in my heart!

Always, Always, Always a Host!

Hosting coffee parties every fortnight was my forte until a few weeks ago. I won't be bragging if I say that I make the best coffee at least in my home town. I mean it and my friends will vouch for that.

Every other day, the idea of partying at my place with pizzas and coffee(weird combination, I know!) would make it to one their heads and they, in turn, would make their way to my home..

I expected to miss all of that once I moved to Delhi, an unfamiliar place where I hardly knew anyone. But, who was to predict the future. As days passed by, I made friends. After having lived at home with Mum and Dad for more than to decades, I had to move out. I had to see the world, I had to be on my own.

I also knew, with my stay at my Home Sweet Home, the era of endless treats and treats to self-invited guests( :D) had come to an end.

As I made friends, I found myself inviting them over to tiny Momos treats and being invited to my own room for Pizza parties(self-invited guests again)! As fate would have it, I found myself being a host to weird parties again.

I do not know how to cook, I can barely make fine Maggi! But, even as I sat among a bunch of people, who were strangers a few months ago, I had found friends in a new city. And I had found myself again, a host at heart, a host in Gwalior, a host again!