Schoolmates (22 page)

I must admit, when dad left and I turned to enter the nostalgic school gates in my simple plain orange sari, I was stunned by the sight that greeted me. There were elephants on the gates showering marigold and rose petal on all the guests. The entire drive way leading to the auditorium was shining with lights and garlands of flower. The red carpet had earthen lamps, lightening the path. Our juniors were all dressed in red and saffron traditional Lehengas and typical, Rajasthani jewellery.

The auditorium was also decorated in Rajasthani grandeur and splendour. The seats were traditional king style and there were floating flowers in the middle of each table. Instead of balloons, there were flower garland decorating the roof and the walls. Drinks were being served in traditional glasses and there was a light scent in the air.

There was the familiar sound of bangles and anklets mixed with lounge music and it filled my memory with all that had happened last year.

I stood on the entrance where my juniors greeted me with bowed hands and a splash of rose water. The boys were also offered a tiny smear of
Kumkum
(saffron) on their forehead.

I entered in the auditorium and stood there looking around for familiar faces. I saw Anjali walking towards me. She was looking so different and gorgeous today that for a second I was spell bound by her natural effluent beauty. Her cream and beaded sari flew after her quick steps and her hair flew like water. I saw every boy turn with amazement as she walked past them, without her realizing it ofcourse.

“Anjali!! By heavens you are looking killing today!” I held out my arms and shared a warm hug with my best friend.

“C’mon . . . look at yourself. You look like a Rajasthani princess Madam. I love your bangles and earrings. And just look at your hair . . .” she turned me around.

I had gone for a haircut and my stylist suggested I get a bun made instead. She said it highlighted my slender neck. I agreed as I was a bit keen to see how a bun would look like on someone who had spent her complete life till then in a pony-tail.

It was then that Kabir spotted me, I guess. And it was precisely at that point that I knew he was watching me. I saw past Anjali’s shoulders and there he was. Standing tall and handsome by the water fountains with Dev. Kabir was dressed simply. He wore a white full sleeves shirt with straight cut black trousers and a fabulous dinner jacket. He looked every bit the Casanova I had called him my whole life.

Anjali followed my gaze and said after a while.

“You know, he has enquired about you like five times . . .”

I did not utter a word. All I did was look at him. There were numerous expressions on his sweet innocent face. But the most obvious one was love . . . so much so that Anjali too admitted that he looked ‘better’ today than most days and that I should go and meet him finally!

As I took my steps closer to him I saw he wasn’t even winking. He just stood there, mesmerized and love struck.

“Hi.” I said as I stood still in front of him, a bit shy of his passionate gaze.

“Hi. You look amazing!” he spoke softly. I knew he had been waiting for me. He held out his hand and I took it coyly. It felt great to stand next to him. I saw Dev looking nonstop at the entrance. He was awaiting the appearance of his girl, Surbhi. She was to come a few minutes late as she was held up in traffic, Kabir whispered in my ears. And Dev had been in sheer trauma ever since the knowledge seeped into him.

I smiled and nodded my head. I knew a thing or two about the aches of the heart. Kabir placed a hand on my shoulder and we stood there watching each other as if there was no one else surrounding us.

Finally, Surbhi arrived and Dev’s face broke out into a shy grin replacing the agony and anticipation. He left us alone and that is when Kabir spoke to me.

“Riya . . . you do realize how beautiful you look in this sari! There are numerous girls here. But none compares to the enchanting goddess that stands before me. Even in such a simple plain sari, you look like an angel of love and beauty . . . I think I’m falling in love, all over again with you. What wouldn’t I do to spend my life in this bliss with you always by my side . . . my guide, my friend, my flightless bird, my love . . . the one I love madly.”

I looked down and gulped in air. His words rang with candour and rage for me. I was so much in love with Kabir that all I ever wanted at that moment was to be totally alone with him. The words he said so simply had such a colossal effect; I suddenly felt as if the cold wind had been supplanted by a soothing, restful and gentle breeze and that I was indeed looking the prettiest of all.

Strange, what a little compliment from that one person can do.

Soon the proceedings of the party began. The speeches were made one by one. Then came the most awaited moment, the distribution of titles.

Ayesha was titled, ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all . . . Ms. Ayesha Kulshreshta.’

Anjali was next. Her title was aptly, ‘Studious, audacious and meritorious, she has them all in her bag of accolades! Do not cross her, her wits and annotations are sharper than a razor blade’

Kabir came next. ‘Fire in his feet and thunder in his style, he is the charmer, the king of hearts, who triumphs in all trials . . . Mr. Kabir Sharma.’

I was so proud of how well the juniors had summarized our qualities and presented them to all of us. There were many claps and encore as Kabir went up the stage to collect his title. He looked so dashing up there that Anjali too smiled from the audiences and I saw that without her knowing it.

I was next. I knew my title would be something which exemplified my academic achievements.

‘And ladies and gentlemen, here is our favourite next title. Excellence is her virtue, knowledge as sharp as darts; she has been number one and the one queen of our king’s heart . . . Ms. Riya Sehgal!’

As I got up to move towards the stage, Kabir suddenly stood with me. He held my hand and escorted me till the steps of the stage, amid a loud chorus of hoots and whistles. He was waiting as I stepped down and extended his hand. I lightly placed mine in his and walked with him fearless of what anyone thought of me that day. I was with him . . .

The next round of title decoration was to begin after the cultural events break. The dance items were presented along with the musical ones.

Dev also got a fantastic title, ‘It takes a lot to be a true friend. Loyalty, selflessness, sacrifice and grit; something we all wish for but get on by our karma . . . If ever there was a synonym created for such a friend, it would be Dev Verma.’

The food was served and everyone got engaged in general bonhomie and chattering. There was arrangement for sitting outside as well where luxurious gazebos were installed this year with rich cushions and traditional chairs. There was also a special one for photographs to be taken.

“Kabir let us go outside for a while,” I said.

“Sure,” Kabir followed me outside.

“We shall be leaving this wonderland soon Kabby. Everywhere I look, I see our lives, from children of kindergarten to twelfth standard students. So much has been seen by these walls and windows that if they could speak, they would create history.” I know it was melodramatic but the moment of our last time together in school was too overbearing.

“These are OUR walls and windows Riya. They will forever remember us,” Kabir placed a hand on my shoulder.

We walked the road leading to our own senior building. We took a detour and went towards the basketball courts, past the chemistry and biology lab. The lamps were all alight and there was a dim glow from all of them. The February evening was cool and my sari was a bit too thin. I shivered a little and Kabir like a gentleman covered me with his warm black coat.

“That is such a movie like gesture!” I exclaimed.

“This is a movie like situation Madam.” He smiled.

It was then that I felt the bulge of a small object in his coat pocket.

“Kabir . . . what is in here?” I asked. I could make out that it was not his cell phone.

“Ah that . . . that my love is your birthday gift.” He spoke calmly, relishing every moment.

I knew he was enjoying all of this. I did not reply, just walked along with him. I could hear the banter of music behind, apparently the dances had begun.

“Don’t you want to see it?” Kabir asked.

“Ofcource I do. I was waiting for you to give it to me.” I said. We had reached the end of the road. There was a small shed there with just the roof and one back wall. It was initially used a few years ago for delivering lectures. Now it awaited us, it appeared.

After a long while, I was alone with him, far from the maddening crowd. I knew it was a special moment. When we stepped onto its floor, the view of the road with its numerous decorations was scintillating. Kabir stood next to me. I could feel his body pressing next to mine.

I had to get distracted . . . soon. This closeness was intoxicating me.

“I wonder which song is playing.” I moved a little away from him. “I think it is the jingle one . . .” Kabir said.

“Which is that?” I dare not turn back and look into those thirsty, love filled eyes of the man I loved so deeply.

“It’s called . . . Kabir and Riya . . . sitting under a tree . . . K-I-S-S . . . you do know the rest, Madam Curie.” He replied.

I turned back. He stood tall with his hands in his pockets looking passionately and intently at me. I was bewitched. In the dim lights of the party, his features were softened and more alluring. I could inhale his masculine perfume which the light breeze was ominously blowing in my direction. He was well built and had grown stronger and appealing in these last few months. He had an urbane and elegant look, the look that was driving me mad with passion and fervour for him.

I stood still, my heart beating aloud, when Kabir walked towards me . . . one meaningful step after the next. I knew my life was going to take the turn I had wanted it to for such a long time now. I knew we had waited far too much for this time.

I knew how I would remember each detail, for as long as I lived.

CHAPTER-39

W
e walked with grace and confidence towards me. I stood firm, without moving an inch but alert towards every tiny detail around me. I know there was a gentle breeze and that my hands were cold. I know the lights had begun to twinkle in distance as the evening bore on. I recall that as he walked towards me, I never wanted that moment to end.

Kabir stood inches away from me. I looked at his handsome face and he extended his hand encircling my waist. As his fingers touched my bare skin, an ocean of emotions weld up in me and I let out a tiny gasp.

He removed his hand and raised it to my face. It was then that I realized what he had removed from one of his coat pockets.

“Happy Birthday Riya dear, my flightless bird.” He looked at me smiling. I know, he knew what was running in that passionate mind of mine. There was a mischievous gleam in his beautiful brown eyes.

I smiled too at my own eagerness and anxiety and took the box from his hand. I opened it with slow delicate movements and saw a beautiful gold ring shining back at me.

I looked up shocked at Kabir’s very satisfied face.

“Kabir . . . is this . . . my god! Is this gold?” I saw the plain band with astonishment.

“Yes. I would not buy anything lesser for the girl I love so madly. Take it out, see it carefully.”

I did as he asked. It was then that I noticed there was something engraved on it.

Every breath, every moment, every day. Forever.

“That is so Lord of the Rings style!” I said and looked up into his eyes brimming with pure love, only for me.

He took it from my hands and slipped it on my finger.

“One day, Madam Curie, I will buy the biggest diamond and get it embedded on this for you, and that day I shall be the Lord of this ring . . . and the lady who will wear it.” Kabir said.

I looked speechless at what he had just said.

“I’ll wait then . . . It will never be off my finger for anyone else now.” I said looking at my ring. I knew the proposal was made and accepted. I took the last step closer to him, placing my hand on his chest. He drew his arms around me and we stood there gently swaying to the sound of the faint music that fell on our ears.

“We better go; they will be announcing the King and the Queen soon. The music seem to have stopped.” Kabir said after a few magical moments.

“No sir . . . I can still hear it.” I said.

Kabir looked up towards the auditorium and said, “Really . . . I can’t. What do you reckon they are playing now?”

“Oh . . . the very popular one. Kabir and Riya sitting under a tree; K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” I said.

Kabir stopped moving and looked at me. I smiled and whispered, “Complete the jingle . . . I love you Kabir Sharma.”

He looked at me smiling in the most contented, happy and love filled manner. He took my chin into his hands, bent down and gently touched my lips with his.

I felt nothing else after that, except the sheer pleasure which ran in my body. I kissed him back and his passion deepened. He tightened his hold on me and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

It was not that I had never wanted to kiss him before. There were numerous days when all I wanted was for him to kiss me like this. But I knew, once we did, there was no stopping us.

But today . . . the world stood still and I’m sure the angles from above watch with pleasure as Kabir and I found each other completely.

I kissed him again and again, for I knew this was not going to happen anytime soon. There was a difficult decision I had to make.

But today was our day. I was his girl . . . a girl who had loved him even before realizing it, a girl who had tried way too hard to resist him. A girl whose entire life flashed before her the moment he kissed her.

It was magical . . . just as a first kiss should be. He was soft and easy yet persistent and demanding. I was more than condescending.

The gathering was called to order. Everyone was seated in the beautiful auditorium. Final speech by the Principal was made. Anjali was on stage now, delivering the vote of thanks.