Testing Waters

Testing Waters

A Story by Shreya Sudesh

For every reason He would give that it could work out, I’d give him ten expostulates as to why it wouldn’t. Topsy-turvy as it seemed, we both wanted us to somehow find a means to exist for each other.

**

‘You are coming for Tarun’s wedding, aren’t you, Ishi?,’ asked Mum as soon as I answered her call.

‘Mummy, its six in the morning for chrissake. You know it’s my midnight,’ I replied, dry-mouthed. My eye-lids begged me to droop shut. But Mum was a very persistent being, as all mothers are. If she wanted to book tickets one week before the wedding to save on last minute charges, she will accomplish it even if she has to wake her workaholic, away-from-home daughter early in the morning just for a confirmation.

‘Look, your Uncle is booking the tickets for us so I thought we should give him a rough estimate at the earliest. Do you know…the boy’s family is taking up the whole cost of the wedding?,’ she replied.

‘I really can’t be sure, Mum. If my clients postpone our meeting or plan a site-visit during that weekend, I’ll have to oblige…,’

‘Even if it means you have to miss your eldest cousin’s wedding? It’s the first wedding of your generation. And it’s been ages since the family saw you. ’

‘ I’ll talk to my Boss and call you, later, okay? I’m hanging up, now. Don’t make plans. Sorry.’ I warned her.

A wedding…and Indian wedding, that too, with all the chimichaga and prolonged ceremonies… being held in Java.

**

Now that I had taken the week off (after a successfully landing the firm a project deal) I thought I’d at least enjoy the free trip and relish the opportunity. Honestly, this was a much-needed break and everyone was there. And the ornate peacock-blue lehenga Mum had bought for me did make me look a tad bit princess-like. Though I dropped the crazy jhumkas which resembled a pair of lopsided Qutab Minars!

The bride and groom looked all happy and bubbly with all the festivities surrounding them. And I watched the circus from one corner of the room. But the sultry heat and my mother’s non-stop advice on getting married early to a wise boy almost killed me. So I walked towards the beach for a breath of fresh air.

That’s when I looked at Him. I saw the silhouette of a guy sitting atop a pile of those boulders that lay strewn across the beach. On closer look, I noticed he was dressed in a sherwani holding a similar-looking glass as mine. I guessed he was from the same party. Was it Tarun by any chance? Maybe he just walked-off like me?

‘Tarun!’

By the time my stupid mouth called out his name I was at the foot of the boulder-pile.

‘I’m sorry?’ Not Tarun.

Shit.

‘H-hey!’ I reply sheepishly.

‘Are you okay, ma’am?’

And the not-Tarun guy climbed down. Finally, Simba got down the Pride Rock, I silently thought to myself.

And well, not-Tarun looked, um, wow. Short-cropped-gelled hair with dark eyes that glittered as they reflected the fairy lights, a well-chiselled jaw-line and an athletic built with brawny shoulders.

Worst part? I was shamelessly ogling at him, giving him a Manhattan onceover.

‘I’m okay. Are you a guest, as well?’

‘Yes, and I’m guessing that you were looking for Jiju? You’re from his side?’

‘Yeah, I’m Tarun’s cousin.’

‘Never seen you before. I mean, at the mehendi , sagaai and stuff.’

‘I’d been busy but I’m here now. I just mistook you to be Tarun, I’m sorry.’

He smiled and extended his hand towards me.

‘Flight Lieutenant Shaurya Singh Rathore’

I melted at that moment.

‘Ishi Sandhu,’ I replied. While one part of me couldn’t tear my eyes away from his sparkling eyes, the other was biting my insides to stop acting like a fool.

‘Do you care for a walk?’

Seriously? Instead of politely declining his offer I just smiled, decently and allowed him to lead the way. And we began speaking. While one part of me listened to him and laughed at his jokes (which were good unlike the stale and pakau ones my family cracked)… the other started ticking my Perfect Man Checklist.

And by the time his phone buzzed to call him back for the wedding we had almost exchanged everything about our lives and my jaws hurt with all the laughing.

‘Ah, we’re on our way!’ he spoke into the phone. Thankfully we had circled back to the Lawns.

I realised my mother must be worried-sick that I wasn’t there. And courteous as I am, I abruptly left his side and rushed inside to catch sight of my mum.

‘Hey, Cinderella!’ someone muttered into my ears and almost scared me shitless as I tried to back out from the dance floor.

‘I’m really sorry…I…’

‘Keep your sorry for later. Let’s dance,’

‘Look, with these heels I’m a liability. So why don’t you dance with some other pretty lady?’ I said.

‘You think I’m here because you’re pretty?’

‘Am I not?’

‘I didn’t really tell you that.’

Okay. What? Where were his dainty manners now?

‘Just kidding. You look gorgeous!’

Mum should hear this, I thought, wickedly. Standard pickup lines 101.

And I relented. So we danced until the stars began to disappear (and My Mum started searching for me)

‘See you, tomorrow?’ he asked before I left.

‘Ah actually, we’re leaving. We just came for a week and tonight’s our last,’

‘I’m leaving, too, ma’am. And we’re probably booked on the same flight.’

And I giggled. Yeah, I actually giggled and I was hardly drunk.

As it turned out, Shaurya was to stay the next few months in Mumbai (luckily) working on a certain god-knows-what in a Helicopter Base at Cottage Green. He’d pick me up after work and we’d g out for movies or play counter-strike all evening.

He understood me. My weird self felt at ease with him. He didn’t smirk if I snorted when I laughed and he didn’t freak out when once I actually drooled on his tee when I fell asleep on the couch.

He was focused. He spoke the right stuff. He hated malls as much as I did. He spoke about aircrafts and patriotism during Sunday lunches with his friends. And he was classy. Not a single strand of his hair looked messy. He’d sometimes stay up with me to help me with my designs until dawn and make me coffee. Trust me, I respect anyone who could make me a cup of coffee at two in the morning when my back is ready to break in two as I spent hours on presentations to impress my clientele.

‘You know I could never make one of those,’ he once said. It was four in the morning and I’d just come back after a quick brush and wash. He was looking at my work, deep in thought.

‘You fly planes, Aviator. There is no comparison. We have no…’ I started as I got back to fevicol and foam board.

‘We have a million common denominators and that’s enough for a hundred lifetimes, together,’ he breathed into my ears as he hugged me from behind. Wherever he touched, my skin scorched.

‘I love you, Ishi,’

And that sent my heart on a marathon race. Tears welled up in my eyes. He just came and gave my feelings a meaning.

And that’s how we found each other, that night.

The next few months only brought us closer until the inevitable happened.Mum smelled something was fishy and decided to surprise me by dropping into my place one Monday evening

‘Mum!’ I almost screamed out of shock when she came in. And before I could regain my composure, she said, ‘I know about it. So drop the act. I saw you two to at the wedding and then the flight. I didn’t believe Monica when she told me… I tried confirming with your Charlie’s Angels (my best friends) but they won’t tell me… so I decided I’d have to come to see for myself.’

‘What are you talking about, Mummy?’

‘I saw him leave the flat. I know it. And so, I’ve come to warn you.’

But the warn sounded like a stop. I couldn’t hold myself back.

‘You’ve not even met him. And you’re judging.’

‘So it is true.’ She sat herself down.

I could sense she hated him already.

‘Beta, I’m not saying he’s bad. He may be a good guy and everything. But now, he’s from our family.’

‘He’s not related to us in that way.’ I replied.

‘He is your brother’s brother-in-law! And anyway, how much do you know him? I don’t like the proximity. The world is watching. If news has reached me…it must have reached his family, too. And it does not give such a good impression, Ishi. At the end of the day every boy and his family want a girl who will turn the place into a home… not some angrezi girl with crazy schedules.’

I was torn into bits by now. This was not how I imagined breaking the news to my family. And I could sense where this conversation was going.

‘Mummy, listen… it’s not that serious!’ I lied.

‘But everyone thinks it is! And this will end up in marriage…and it will either be a blessing or ruin your life’ she retorted.

‘I don’t know that yet.’

‘Then why does he live here?’

‘He doesn’t! It’s not gone that far!’

‘Only the two of you know that!’

I was shocked. My mind had turned into a battlefield and the worst side of me came out. I cried when I was angry and by then I was bawling my eyeballs out.

My Mother came over to me and tried instilling sense into me.

‘Ishi, you’re so career oriented… you have dreams. Are you prepared to let go of them, for him?’

That was enough. It then struck me. My mother was only speaking aloud my own doubts and fears. And she was right. Spot On. And that ached worse than ever. It was the reason I had not confessed my love for him, for so long. Shaurya’s job required him (and whoever decided to tie the knot with him) to shift every two or three years whenever he got posted to different stations. And his job required dedication.

And my Practice? The job I struggled to get…five years in College and then two strenuous years in all sorts of places? When I finally found my Calling, how could I be asked to leave it all behind?

My mother understood the meaning of my silence.

‘Ishi, you are wise but you stray away often. Don’t make a mistake you’d repent, later. I don’t care about the people. I care about You. Don’t live in a bleak dream. See the reality. Make the right choice.’

Reality pricked. This either had to end or I had to begin thinking of a career that moved with me. And Architecture was not it. And it was all I had dreamed and worked for, tirelessly.

…..

‘I’ve been posted to Ladakh, Ish!,’ he said excitedly, ‘only for a few months, though…then I’d probably go to Delhi. It’s amazing, right?’

I smiled, in response.

‘This means you’re leaving.’

‘Yes, Ish but I’ll be back…’

‘You only get thirty days off in a year. And your family lives in New Delhi…not here.’

‘You think I won’t come…?’

‘I think it won’t work out.’

And I saw it on his face…it twisted with pain.

‘Ishi, look, time will pass by in a jiffy. Trust me.’ I could see it in his eyes. The confusion…the reality seeping into his conscience.

‘For how long, Shaurya? Two years, four?’

‘I love you, Ishi. I’m not going to leave you this way,’

‘You plan to marry me then?’ I asked. There, I put it out there, cold and crude.

‘Yes, I do. Don’t you?’

His words felt like a cold splash of water on my face. And I didn’t have a comeback.

‘And my job, Shaurie? It’s not freelance writing.’ I had the strong urge to add a sweet something to my words but I found none that were appropriate. I could see him shatter before me.

‘We’ll work out something.’

‘Will you leave your job?’

And he gave me a ‘How-can-I?’ expression.

‘I can’t either. This is what I dreamed of, Shaurya. I can’t just throw it away.’

‘Ishi, all I know is that I love you.’ He was desperate to convince the both of us.

‘I love you too much, I’m afraid.’ And I held back my tears. I knew my words were piercing him. This was going from bad to worse. His desperation now turned to disbelief.

He bent across the table, kissed my forehead, held me close for a few moments before swiftly moving out. And I broke down right there.

**

The decision was made. I needed time. I needed to see if he’d write back to me, wait for me. I realised that though we were entwined together until then…I wasn’t sure if our ends would ever meet.

I did meet him at the Airport… almost killing myself on the way… but I knew I had to see him. I didn’t care if it gave him the wrong idea. I didn’t care if this would hurt me To know that what we had was real. To see him one last time.

We had never planned this. We only lived in the moment. That’s what he gave me… happiness. But I had to let go to see how much I wanted him and my heart knew that.

His eyes lit up like a million lamps when he saw me get out of cab, still in my bed clothes. He was unloading in front of the airport check-in. And I was running like a lunatic. He dropped his luggage just in time to receive my asteroid-self into a swirling hug.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I squeaked as I began to cry and pressed my face against his chest. He was my Prince Charming. Love is not like some famous brand which keeps coming up with better or worse models time to time. It just happens and anchors you. And He was It.

He just whispered how much he loved me as I cried into him. He kissed my cheek and I could see he was ready to leave. After all, I broke his heart.

‘I love you, Ish.’ And he walked away. And I let him.I was just testing the waters before I dived into it. Love is not about Possession, Love is about appreciation.