No Time for Goodbyes (5 page)

‘B
E READY BY
8.30 tomorrow morning,' Manoj says, just before leaving. The movie is over and we're back home and although it's just eight in the night, it feels pretty late. Ajji looks at all of us disapprovingly but because we're with Manoj she doesn't say anything.

‘Where are you going tomorrow?' Reena asks when Manoj leaves.

‘To his college. I'm trying to get some kind of part-time job,' I explain. All three girls look shocked.

‘Job? Aren't you a bit too young for that?' Suma asks.

‘No, Manoj said I might get a part-time job assisting his librarian. I don't know what I'll do here all day,' I say, musing at the similarity of her reaction to my getting a job in 1982 and 2012.

‘How long are you planning to stay anyway?' Suma asks and then her face flushes red because she realises how rude that sounds.

‘I'll be going back soon, hopefully,' I stutter and move in the direction of the room.

As I curl up in bed that night, all the sounds from outside magnified and alluring, I think about many things. What is happening back at home? Am I missing? Or is all this just a dream and I'll wake up in the attic? My mind moves to mom, wondering for the first time about her as a person other than just my mother. It quickly hops to dad, and I feel a little protective of him. When did mom meet him? How could I have not known how they met? I mean, what kind of child am I if I haven't even bothered to listen to the story of how my parents met especially since all I know is that theirs wasn't an arranged marriage.

Then naturally my thoughts move to Manoj. An uncomfortable thought begins to form in my head. Does something happen to him in the period after 1982 and before I'm born? The thought is alarming and I sit up in bed, worried sick. This is awful, being from the future and yet not knowing everything.

‘What happened?' Suma asks and I shake my head before falling back on the bed. In just two days, Manoj has become a good friend. He's also the only person here with whom I can be myself and he'll understand. I don't want anything to have happened to him, I realise. I mutter a few short prayers for his well-being and fall into a troubled sleep.

When I get up in the morning, I'm confused again. My hand reaches out to my phone and I pick it up and squint at it. It's got 20% power and no signal. Oh right. I'm still in 1982.

I get dressed and under Ajji's watchful eyes, I eat a quick breakfast of idlis smothered with chutney and sambhar. The girls are up too but they aren't eating yet. They all look at me with envy because a) I'm getting a job and b) I'll be spending time with Manoj. I try not to think of anything as I eat and then by 8.30, I'm waiting for him near the door.

‘When will you be back?' Suma asks. I've no idea and I tell her as much.

‘Well, have fun then,' she says as she goes into the room. I'm surprised that she's not hanging around waiting for Manoj. When Manoj rings the doorbell, I open the door uncertainly. Suddenly I'm not so sure about spending the whole day with him. He's sure to bug me about the future. But it's too late to back away now and I step outside after waving a feeble bye at everyone in the house.

‘What's the date today?' I ask him as we walk in the direction of the bus stop.

‘20
^th
December,' Manoj says.

‘Was your grandfather able to … find a solution?' I ask him uncertainly, almost afraid of his answer. What if his grandfather has given up?

‘Not yet, but he was working on it the whole day. And most of the night as well.' Manoj says, looking exasperated.

‘And?' I ask feeling curious and a little hopeful.

Manoj shakes his head. ‘We don't know what triggered the time travel for you. I mean, did you do something? How did you get sucked inside?' he asks, leaning against the railing of the bus stop. There are a few other student types there and Manoj smiles at a girl in a pink salwar kameez who waves at him. I feel slightly affronted on behalf of my mother and aunts. This guy has conquests everywhere he goes! Hmpf!

I realise I haven't answered his question because I've been busy watching his exchange with the girl who looks like she's about to join us.

‘Do you know her?' I ask without meaning to.

‘Yeah. She's a junior in college. We travel together sometimes,' he says, looking away from her and finally facing me.

‘So, I didn't do anything then,' I answer his earlier question and he looks momentarily confused.

‘Oh, okay. I wish we knew what to do with the photo once we take it. That's the only way we can figure out how to send you back,' he says.

‘Hi!' It's the girl in pink who's sidled up to us now. She's got a lovely complexion and she's really pretty. She's wearing a sleeveless kurta that shows off her arms and her chiffon dupatta is blowing around in the wind. I feel like a troll in my ink blue salwar kurta that I have borrowed from Suma this morning. I mean it does nothing for my skin and from the quick look I'd taken in the mirror, it makes me look slightly pasty.

‘Hey Neelima!' Manoj says warmly and turns to introduce me to her. Neelima is very impressed when she learns that I'm from Australia. I glare at Manoj after he finishes the introductions because now I'm stuck with one more person who wants to know what Australia is like.

‘Do the kangaroos run on roads?' she asks me, her eyes wide with wonder. Manoj who is standing behind her tries to keep a straight face while I think of a plausible answer. Where's the bus? I wish we were on our way.

When I make up an answer for her, she smiles at me in such a guileless manner that I realise she's really a sweet girl.

‘I wonder what you think of our city after living all your life in a place like Australia,' she muses. ‘I mean, we must all seem so rustic and backward to you right?'

I pause for a moment and think. ‘Actually no,' I say and notice that Manoj is listening to me with interest. My face flushes a little as I explain further. ‘That's the life I've known forever. But this life here in Bangalore, it's quaint and interesting and simply lovely.' I realise this is true. Mom always tells me that her childhood and her growing up years were wonderful but I never paid attention or even believed her. Now that I'm living her life, I'm a little surprised to realise that she was right. They may not have cell phones and computers and yet it's not the end of the world. They seem to be doing just fine.

The bus rolls to the stop and I get in thankfully, but not before I spot Manoj looking at me thoughtfully.

T
HIS IS THE COLLEGE
I've wanted to apply to, I realise as we walk into Christ College. But of course, it looks nothing like this now. Manoj and Neelima are chatting amicably and they part ways once inside but Manoj is soon stopped by numerous people who either want to say ‘Hi' to him or just talk to him about the weekend.

I stand by the side, feeling annoyed as he goes on in details about the movie we saw last night and then finally we hear the sound of the bell ringing in the distance and all the students disperse.

‘Shouldn't you be heading to class?' I ask him, although I'm feeling slightly panicky at the thought of being left alone in this huge campus. Also it's not like the present where we'd just text each other if we got lost. How did people find each other in those days? Beats me.

‘Yeah, but I'm skipping the first class. I'll take you around the college and introduce you to the librarian,' he says, smiling at me and I nod in relief. Together we walk towards a huge stone building that houses the library and we go inside. It's so quiet in here that you can actually feel the hush that falls on anyone who enters. Some students are sitting at the tables, reading quietly although I can see some lips move. There are a couple of them near the shelves, looking for books. At one corner is the librarian's desk and we move towards it in silence.

I'm amazed at the number of books in this library and although I imagine that only a meagre percentage of them are probably fiction, it's still a good feeling.

Manoj finds the librarian, a middle-aged balding man who looks extremely serious. He tries to explain the situation to him but the man keeps shushing him. It's a bit funny actually and I try not to laugh. Finally Manoj asks the librarian to step out for a moment and once outside, he tells him the same Australia and lost luggage story.

‘Has she come alone from Australia?' the man peers at me with interest and I squirm under his gaze.

‘Yes. She's staying with her relatives in Delhi and needs money to go back. I offered to help her but she insists on paying her way through. She needs a part-time job, sir,' Manoj explains earnestly. The man looks thoughtful as he pulls at his lower lip and then shrugs.

‘College is closing in three days. What's the point of doing a job for such a short period?' he asks and I look at Manoj disappointed. This hasn't occurred to both of us. Manoj glances at me, as though to ask if I'm still interested. Well, I've no idea when I'm headed back home, so why not give it a try.

‘I'd still like to work for three days sir,' I tell him and the man looks at me thoughtfully.

‘Fine. I'll speak to the dean but young woman, I won't be able to pay you much,' he says. I nod, remembering the ticket price for the movie yesterday. If that was any indication of the money situation … I gasp when I hear how much he's willing to pay me.

‘What? I told you I won't be able to pay more than that,' he says, looking indignant. I nod, although I'm fuming mentally. Twenty rupees.
That's
his offer. Manoj is looking extremely amused and I narrow my eyes at him.

‘So, you come back here in half an hour. You can start then,' he says and Manoj and I walk away from there.

‘You should have seen the look on your face!' Manoj says as we walk towards a block of buildings.

‘Honestly!' I mutter, momentarily forgetting that this is the past and that twenty rupees for a part-time job must be the equivalent of at least a thousand bucks.

We stop at the canteen for some hot coffee and sit down at a bench, sipping it. I look around with a lot of interest. Everyone seems so laidback and comfortable and they are actually talking to each other instead of peering into their phones or texting. A couple of young women are wearing longish skirts and there's one girl who is wearing jeans. Only, it doesn't look anything like the ones I've ever seen. It's all baggy and poufy and I try not to laugh. When I look back at Manoj, he's staring at me intensely and I feel uncomfortable.

‘What?' I ask, looking down.

‘It's not fair, you know. You get to come back and laugh at our fashion sense or make fun of how little we earn and you won't tell me even a single thing about the future?' he asks softly. He's right. Maybe I can tell him
some
of the good stuff.

‘Tell me your interests,' I ask him, hoping to tell him something connected to that. He might get off my back then. He looks blank for a moment and then shrugs.

‘The same as anyone else I guess. Movies, cricket and … umm, Physics,' he says with a smile.

Cricket!

‘Okay, here's the thing. In 1983, the Indian cricket team will win the World Cup,' I whisper and he looks back at me shocked.

‘What?' he asks so loudly that everyone turns to look at us.

‘Shh! Don't make a scene, you idiot!' I tell him and he shakes his head.

‘You're not making that up?' he asks and I cross my arms and sit back.

‘Only one way for you to find that out,' I tell him with a smirk.

‘Wow!' he breathes. ‘Tell me more!'

‘I don't like cricket that much and I wouldn't have watched the last World Cup if it weren't for Dhoni.' I admit but he looks at me puzzled. Oh right. Imagine a world where someone doesn't know Dhoni!

‘Who does India win the World Cup against?' he asks, leaning forward, his eyes alight with excitement.

I struggle to recall the team. If it hadn't been for India winning the last world cup and everyone comparing that to the 1983 match, I wouldn't even have known about any of it.

‘I think it's the West Indies,' I say finally and his eyes grow rounder.

‘Tell me more!' he says and I look exasperated.

‘I don't know any more. I told you I don't like cricket,' I tell him.

‘Girls!' he mutters and drains his coffee. ‘What
do
you like apart from clothes and books?'

He's pinned it right. ‘I have this “neat and clean” OCD,' I tell him. He looks stupefied.

‘Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,' I explain. ‘Actually I'm sure I don't have it. It's just that my whole need for keeping things clean irritates my mother so much that she and Raina call it my OCD.'

‘Slow down, slow down!' he says, putting his hands up. ‘Who's Raina?'

‘My younger sister. She's 13 and she's nothing like me. And she loves science, especially Physics and Chemistry. She's forever swotting for it even though she knows everything in that darn text book of hers. I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night and hear her muttering about coefficient of cubical expansion and I want to scream!' I realise I've actually missed the brat and my eyes are misting over but Manoj bursts out laughing and I don't feel so sad any more.

I make a face at him. ‘I'm sure you would have enjoyed it more if she'd come here instead of me!' I say.

‘I doubt that,' he says easily and I feel the strangest things going boppity bop inside me at his words. Whoa! What's happening? Thankfully, he hasn't noticed anything. I look away quickly and realise he's still talking.

‘You should have told me before about this OCD. I would have given you a job cleaning our house,' he jokes and I throw a paper napkin at his face.