Gone By (4 page)

Before I could pull out certain queries about her she banged out me first with twisting verse of interruption.

“No....I’m present here”. She smiled a little on my jerky reply.

We were served with some initiation eatables consisting some crispy items, some added flavoured drinks and cold ice cream of each choices.

She took a sip of the drink “I believe you’re lost in someone’s memory”.

Yes, Indeed I was. The memories recapitulated, the place once where Anannya used to be was replace by Isha sitting calmly before me. I shook off my emotions for moment and those heavy piles of memories struggling hard to bring back the shades of excitement that was casting  on my face.

“So, where was I ” with sort of perplexity in my eyes.

“Hello, Mr. We are in a restaurant” Isha pointed her voice sharp at me.

I paused for a while as I dirigible back and brought that replacement over me lashing my  previous image before her. I intently asked her to describe something about her.

“So, now share me your mystified story that landed you here”.

Her lips widened to shine a smile. “Hahaha!!!!...would you write or record my story if I reveal my truth”.

“Perhaps not, but with due respect I would love to listen to your narration”.

“What would you like to know about me” Isha puts a query on me.

The waiter arrived by then with stack of plates, placed on our table and off to get the meal. “Anything you want to share” I muttered.

“Well, I am basically an NRI from Houston”.

“I knew it. So, what do you like about America” I inquired in an excitement.

“All most everything, I guess”.

We were served with the chicken tandoori while our conversation kept processing. She sniffed the smell that tasted very catchy into her nose flavouring out the fragrance of Indian Spice.

“I love the smell” she spoke with her mouth watering inside as I could deduce by her expression. She held her spoon and fork in her hand.

“But, you know you’re unlike other NRI”.

That was my prolific compliment I commented on her, since I’ve never come across any NRI, except for her the first in my life.

“Why did you just say that” she lifted her voice.

“Just like that.........So for how many years have you been there?”.

“Well, I was born and brought up there”.

“That sounds absolutely well...huh!!”.

She took a bite of a chicken which She sliced with an effort through a knife.

“It taste good” she crackled.

“Yeah!! One of my favourite” I added my words.

“So, tell me something about you”.

To make the ambient more familiar and extensively cultured there were sweet music being played as background score.

“Well, what you want to know about me”.

“Anything you wish” she sensitized her voice softly.

“Well, I’m local itself.....I mean I’m Indian” I uttered being little funny.

“I know that Idiot” she chuckled at me.

“Ok!!! Forget about it and tell me where are we going to go next” she hinted me.

“Anywhere, wherever out foots carries us”.

She smiled peeking her eyes at me.

“Tell me how did you like the recipe with Indian Spice”.

“Well, it was fantastically mouth watering”.

We had completed the remaining meal as our talk continued to extent. The last thing remaining before we could leave was the cash bill. I handed over the cash to pay the bill with the changes as service gift to the waiter. She stood high from her chair, clutched back all her belongings. She held her camera on one of her shoulder hanging out through the thinly elastic thread. On the other hand she carried her hand bag. But this time she kept out of my sight the Novel she carried. In fact, it was inside her bag. We resolved our way through the glass door. My hand pushed it hard to open a way for her. She stepped out and I followed her. We gathered our way for a while.

“So, what’s your plan next” her voice caught my ear drum.

“As I said where ever it takes”.

“Alright, I trust you” she grinned.

In the meanwhile I was looking for a street book store as we followed our way.

“So, what’s your job in America” I questioned her.

“Well, I’m a graduate in medicine and now I work in a huge enterprise”.

“What about you?”.

“I’m yet to complete my graduation, with a year left”.

“Hold on” I squeaked.

She hitched for a moment and waited. I laid my step towards the street book store.

A small boy came up and uttered “Yes! Sir What can I do for you”.

All I was searching a guide map of Mumbai. I recommended him for a guide map. Within a minute the boy flipping it’s pages handed over to me. I paid around thirty bucks for it. The boy was happy with the extra possession he got that day.

“So, here we go anywhere you wish” with my exemplary behaviour.

She grinned “Well, neither both of us know anything about the city but yes this is going to lead us the whole tour”.

She took the map from my hand, turned few pages.

“Hey, look lets drive to Marine drive” she chuckled.

“Really you want to go there, it’s tremendously worth viewing”.

I glanced at my wrist watch and the time cornering out to be 5:oopm. And we still yet to decide where should we proceed next. Our speed rushed faster as our steps began to grow wilder with excitement.

“Let’s just do it, let’s go” Isha commanded intently.

On her wish we followed to catch up a cab which would way us to Marine drive.

“Have you ever been there” she asked.

“No...not often, once in a blue moon”. She smiled.

“For you it’s the first time” with huskiness in my voice.

Our steps followed together through the footpath way. She looked very happy and contented. “Yes!! Of course my first time”.

Her exclusive nature always thrilled me high.

“Do you like Indian culture” I squinted.

“Yes!! Surely I do”.

We were heading on to a taxi stand. “By the way what do you study” she said dryly with sudden interest.

“Oh!!! I study Engineering”.

“Wow!! That’s cool”. She puts a gleam on her face.

“You know I too wanted to become an Engineer and ended up in Medicine” with glee of regret on her face.

“No..Its’ totally fine you’re absolutely cool being a Pharmacist”.

The influence of crusty wind over the city of Mumbai prevailed. And She was walking alongside me. Her hair flared out freely with the swift blow of airy environment. And I could watch those hierarchy of smiles shimmering out from her at any instant. She obstructs me whenever she peeks her eyes at me for no reason. With the effect of airy surrounding the climate gradually began to cool down. As we walked on, with no intentions at all I squeezed more closer to her. I felt the necessity of an interior touch that was urgently growing between us. We were silent on our way. Skipping out many stalls which extended till no end. At the end we finally reached the taxi stand. There were nonstop cab servicing the day. The only thing on my mind which trembled me was, I had to return back the next day and I didn’t knew how long I have to spend more time with Isha. Although, I always expected her by my side everywhere we go.

“So, we got to catch a taxi to Marine Drive” I snapped.

“Yep!!!”.

We hired a cab. I initiated to open the door for her. She percolated in and I gently pushed myself beside her. She rolled down the glass window that was kept closed and handed out her camera. She flashed out through the window of the moving cab.

“That was a wonderful click” with the sense of applaud in my voice.

“Thanks”.

To make the inside atmosphere more charismatic I asked the Cab driver to tune us to a sweet music.

“Hahahaha!!!!” she giggled as the music played on.

“What happen”.

“I have been hearing to this song since I was child”.

“So, you like Indian Music”.

“Of course, but particularly not this”.

“Why not”.

“Well, you know my Mom..she’s kind a very cultured primitive woman”.

“That’s well enough”.

“But me no way....She likes to listen to all these bullshits”.

“And what about you”.

“Aaaa!!  Do you listen to Mick Jagger”.

“Nah!..not my choice”.

“Exactly..you must be liking rapping”.

“Yeah! I do”.

“What about you then”.

“I hate raps, chills with Pops and RnB” She said.

Time was running out yet we were rushing out slowly. When the evening arrived, it was for sure the traffic schedule of Mumbai never tends to stop. We were stuck at one traffic zone. Obviously there were hundreds behind us waiting in a line for the red signal to disappear. From every corner directions horn blew in loud decibel, minimizing our tone suppressing to hear what each one said. I could see Isha voicing out and her movements of her lips. At most I could manage to sense out what she was clearing out from her mouth, which was almost mute to me. I just nodded my head with a sign of perplexed understanding. Finally the red signal turned green. When then all vehicle started to move, rushing like the race of formula one. Our cab took its way, and speeded up its gear. We were more than half on our way, just minutes away. The cab took it’s safe side and parked. There were hundred people around encircling the semicircle arc of Marine Drive. She stepped out first and I took the other side of the door. As per the meter rate the fare was paid to the driver. I quickly rushed towards her. I clasped her hand, holding tight and we proceeded ahead. She clipped her hand out of my hold, and positioned her camera to take a photograph. “Wow!!!” she flashed out as she clicks on the blue view of Arabian Sea.

“Isn’t that beautiful” She smuggled.

She peeked again at me. As we were walking on she stopped an old man asking him to click a photograph of both together. She shifted her body close to me. I stood with no inch of gap between us. She held my arm firmly and we were ready with the photogenic posture. Behind us there laid the exotic oceanic view.

“Ready...get set go” the old man focused on us pressing the click button.

“Oh! That’s very thank you Sir” said Isha.

She looked very ecstatic and charming. The Sun by now dropped its rays to settle down for the night. The setting sun along the horizon gave us the most tempting view that one could see at that moment. We walked for a while along the semi circular path which extended for meters that engulfed the oceanic water. Highly raised waves splashing out, hitting those hard rock along the edge that laid stagnant. The incoming cool breeze along the offshore added the nonchalant flavour to the evening. Isha seemed very relax and chilling. And I was everywhere wherever she was, like her instinct that would never leave. The very scenario reminded me of the other day, where I was all alone yearning for the love. But today I was on new alignment of my life unlike the day that passed the day before.

She was still before me and I was with her which gave me the gleam back on my face to reconstruct. Although, I was aware of the fact, I’m just here to help her. After my prolonged subconscious thought Isha cracked her voice loud. She was few steps away from me.

“Hey!!! Come and look here” She called.

I could watch her resting on huge rock shaped structure, and asking me to accompany the flame of  joy that evolved around. She smiled from distance flaunting her sweet eyes gesture at me.

“Just wait little” and I swift off to get some eatables to hold on the time for the sharing moment that would create between us. Isha looked very flashy that evening. But I was little febrile inside, had no idea what’s the reason behind. Is it the intense love for Anannya or the presence of Isha clashing a form of war. I firmed my step quick and picked the spot where she was waiting for me. “What you got” she asked.

“It’s a fruit juice and few packets of chips”.

She comfortably made a room for me beside her. I sat beside her absolutely with no constrain on my behaviour.

“You look distress” she firmed her voice to know.

“No...I’m absolutely fine” denying my inner infection.

“You got something in your mind” she appealed hard on me.

I tried hard dismissing the evidence of dismayed appearance on my face. That instant aporia aroused within me.

“You got a memory here, I believe” She instantly squeaked.

I peeked at her with a long stressful gaze for minutes. Silence ruled over me for a while, watching at her beautiful face with those courage erupting within me.

“Why you looking at me that way” she mumbled her melodious voice.

I paused for short, rendering hard to smile a little wide. “You’re different” with my soft tone.

“Are you missing someone?” she puts a queries on me.