No Time for Goodbyes (17 page)

T
HE ROOM WHERE THE
girls and Ajji are sleeping is dark and I step inside cautiously, resisting my temptation to turn on the light from my cell phone. I don't know where I'm supposed to be sleeping so I stand there for a while letting my eyes get adjusted to the darkness. I can make out shadowy forms on the ground and there's a bed where I think Ajji's sleeping. I have to stare harder until I can see that there's an empty spot for me on the mattresses.

I gingerly step forward and make my way towards the spot and lie down with a sigh. I'm startled when the person next to me speaks up. It's Suma. My mouth tightens in a grim line. I don't want to deal with her. There's too much going on in my head. This whole time travel thingy, Manoj and I realising that I'm the one triggering it, our feelings for each other … it's all too complicated.

‘Took you long enough to come down from the terrace,' she comments in a whisper and I can sense her nasty undertone. I'm so tempted to tell her the truth about who I am. Just to shock her a bit.

‘I wish you'd never come to India!' she says fiercely and I turn to look at her amazed. What did I ever do to her?

‘Why?' I ask, turning to her and trying to keep my voice level.

‘Because Manoj changed after you went. He just changed. It was like a light had been switched off inside him,' she says, looking up at the shadowed ceiling where the fan rotated slowly. I want to tell her to back off Manoj. She's marrying Deepak after all. But I can't tell her because, well in the future she's my mother. God, this is all so messed up, I think, as I turn on my back again to stare at the ceiling like her.

‘I wish I hadn't come too,' I whisper, not knowing where that came from. Is it true? In parts, maybe. Travelling back into time showed me so much more about life the last time around. I learned to take things slow and not to be so dependent on technology whether it was a cell phone or an oven. But this time? Everything seems to be clouded by my feelings for Manoj and what it can mean in the long term.

‘Then why did you come again?' she asks me.

‘I couldn't help it,' I tell her honestly.

‘So … you also feel the same way as he does?' she asks in a small voice and I sigh loudly.

‘Suma, don't take this the wrong way but Manoj … he's not the guy for you,' I tell her. There's silence and I know I've offended her terribly.

‘I don't know what you're talking about,' she says after a pause.

‘So you don't have any feelings for him?' I challenge her, turning to look at her once again. How surreal is this?

‘No. He's been like an older brother and I don't want to see him hurt,' she says, meeting my eyes squarely. It takes me a minute of staring to realise that she's not lying.

‘You mean … you don't have any feelings for him?' I ask her again, feeling relief flood me.

‘I'll be honest. I did. But that was a schoolgirl crush. And I know he doesn't think of me that way. It was easy to get over it. But after you came everything changed. When you left the last time, he walked around for a week in a daze,' she says.

Even though in my head I'm thinking, thank god, thank god, I feel sad when I hear this.

‘I didn't want to go,' I tell her, hoping that will make her more amenable to me.

‘Look, I know you don't belong here,' she says and I snort. You can say that again, mom.

‘Maybe you should work on a way to take him with you,' she says. ‘I can't bear to see him torn up over you again.'

I digest this advice in silence and wonder what mom will say if I indeed bring Manoj with me into 2012. As if it's possible.

But as we both go to sleep with this uneasy truce hanging over us, the thought has slowly been wedged in my head. What if we can do it? What if I can take him back? Last time I had taken him back but he disappeared soon after. Maybe we can make his grandfather work on the camera to send both of us into the future. That's when I remember Manoj lamenting about how his grandfather had been unable to send him into the future. That's when I also remember that the camera is gone.

I
T'S DÉJÀ VU TIME
I realise when I look at Manoj sideways as he drives the car. He looks sure of himself even though he's been completely silent all morning since we got inside the car. I don't want to leave Madras without the camera but we have no choice because of Ajji's guest.

Suma is sitting next to me, looking out of the window as we cruise past an early morning in Madras. I'm unable to take the sights as I should be doing. It all seems like a blur to my eyes although when the car stops at a traffic signal, I notice that there are many cycles on the road as well as rickshaw pullers and a lot of men wearing lungis.

In the back, Ajji, Reena and Vidya seem to be uncomfortable because of the heat. Even though the plan was to leave early, by the time we started out it was 7.30 and the sun had already come up.

The windows were rolled down and yet they were fanning themselves with round plastic fans that Ajji had brought along with her thoughtfully.

‘Madras in April,' Suma mutters as she fans herself too despite sitting near the window. I know! My top is stuck to my back and Manoj is constantly wiping away sweat from his forehead.

For a minute, I'm wondering about dad and how strange this whole connection has been. I haven't spared much thought to him since I revealed to Manoj who he is but I start thinking about him.

What is he doing in Madras? How come he has never mentioned this Mahesh to us before? Is this how mom and dad met? Despite promising myself that I would find out how my parents met, the last time I was here, I forgot about it as soon as I went back to 2012. Manoj probably knows about him but I can't ask him here, when we're on the road.

Soon we're on the highway, if you can call it that. It's shocking to see the state of the roads and even though there's much less traffic, I'm terrified. This journey from Madras to Bangalore seems never ending and although the route through Andhra Pradesh is very scenic, I can't relax or enjoy it.

We're all waiting to get down and stretch our legs when it's time for lunch. Ajji hasn't been able to pack a meal like last time so we have to eat at a restaurant. Of course, this is 1983 and hence not as many restaurants as I am used to. But somewhere near Chittoor, Manoj slows down the car and veers left from the highway towards the dirt road and comes to a stop outside a seedy-looking building.

No one seems too intent on going inside but we're all hungry and tired so we get down. Manoj doesn't talk to me as I sit down for lunch. I'm a little surprised by his reaction, especially after the way we'd parted on the terrace last night.

The food is mostly okay although Ajji doesn't look too happy about it. She insists that we don't drink the water there and instead hands out a large water bottle that she has brought with her.

We pass the bottle along and when I hand it to Manoj after a sip, he looks at me with a confused expression and nods. What was that all about? After we finish eating, there's a minor tussle between Ajji and Manoj about who would pay the bill. Ajji insists that she's the oldest but Manoj decides to man up and doesn't listen to her. It's a little amusing and then we all stream out. Manoj and I are first to be out and I quickly ask him if everything is all right.

‘Yes, why shouldn't it be?' he asks looking distant.

‘But …'

‘But what?' he asks looking back at me as though irritated.

‘Why are you so angry?' I ask him, lowering my voice to a whisper because the others are outside now.

His shoulders slump a bit. ‘I'm angry at myself. Not you. I shouldn't have left the bag in the car yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking,' he says.

‘Are you sure that's all there is?' I ask him, narrowing my eyes. He looks away uncomfortably and then sighs as he walks around to the car.

‘After you left, I stayed up and thought about what you had said. The more I think about it, the more I realise you're right. I was able to travel to the future because you were there but all the other times we tried, my grandfather couldn't do it. And why hasn't the photo worked for thirty years? It's all these questions I'm worried about.'

Now would not be the right time to tell Manoj about what Suma had suggested that I take him back with me. He's annoyed and angry as it is already.

‘We'll speak to your grandfather when we get back home. He'll figure something out,' I assure him, covering his hand with mine. He squeezes it briefly and smiles a little before getting inside. Ajji and the others are all waiting to sit inside and I come to a sudden decision.

It's done. I'm back in the past and once again, how I will reach the present is uncertain. I'm going to stop moping over it, or worrying about how my parents must be worried out of their minds because there's nothing I can do right?

Last time it had been like an adventure. This time should be no different. I look at Manoj as he manoeuvres his way out and speeds up again and I know that having him with me makes all the difference.

T
HANK YOU
A
LLAH, FOR
freeing the ink in my pen and making this book possible.

Ammi—Your words sparked the idea to write this book. Always grateful for it.

Shakeel mam and Saleem mam—Thank you for bearing with my questions about life in the 80s. Your days of ‘youth' certainly rocked.

Sidra, Geetha, Anupama, Uncle OT and Anjum—I know I tortured you by sending only ten chapters at a time but thank you for bearing with my eccentricities. And of course, thank you for loving the book.

Junaid—Thank you for your help in theorising about time travel, although I did get confused quite a few times!

Mansoor, Phuppujan, Saboor and Azhaan—I know you give me a wide berth when I'm writing. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for the love.

Himanjali—I know it's your job, but editing this book with you has been a dream. Thank you for your promptness and professionalism.

Urmila Dasgupta—Getting you as an agent was the best decision I made. Thanks for everything!