“Um…I am not sure about that… Look, we know what happened the last time you said that.” Probably an adrenaline rush is causing my brain to produce such historically painful replies.
“Trust me, please! I will call you.” He sounds more than convincing.
“It’s okay…you don’t have to,” I say, but Raag doesn’t let me finish my sentence and interrupts.
“Mayuri…” His voice is low, very low. I hear him taking a deep breath. “I think you are not going to listen to me. So, let’s talk.” Raag pauses before continuing. “First of all, would you please tell me one thing?”
“What thing?”
“Who the hell is Namrata?” Raag is agitated. I think.
“That’s Mehta Uncle’s…” I pause. Baffled. “What? You don’t know Namrata?”
Damn it!
“No…now, would you please tell me? Who is this Namrata? And why would I be interested in her?”
Sensing Raag’s palpable exasperation, I tap my forehead in embarrassment and grumble. “Well, I thought. Maybe. When you didn’t call. Then, I um…then why…I mean…” My confidence crumbles. Yet the puzzle remains unsolved. Why would you not prefer to talk to me then?
“Because you clearly mentioned that you needed some time to think about this whole thing,” Raag answers politely to my unspoken question. “Did you not send the same message through your mother to my maa?”
“I also asked for more talk time!” My reply is quick and demanding.
“I know. I am aware of that, and I am so sorry I didn’t call,” Raag says, and politeness becomes him.
“No…you shouldn’t be sorry. I don’t think I have a right to call you and disturb you like this. I am very sorry I called.”
“Mayuri…you have every right to call me,” Raag says as if he means it. That is very comforting yet confusing. I am no one to him. Why is he offering me rights?
Right. No one to him!
“Why?” I demand, pushing both of us into perpetual silence.
After what feels a long time, Raag takes a deep breath. “Because…” He pauses. “Because you do,” Raag asserts as if he is speaking one thing but meaning the other. What could that other thing possibly be? Something tells me that he is trying to hide it.
While he is focused on some inexplicable reasons, I gather some courage from deep down in my belly to initiate the conversation I originally intended. “Raag, you should know that I can’t stop thinking about our conversations. And I so wanted to hear your voice that first time in my life I understood the meaning of the phrase, waiting in vain…” I’m not sure where I find that courage to get it out of my chest. Well, it is only fair that I tell him how I feel for him. Now, this is the defining moment. Of course, Raag is not going to tell me that he feels the same way for me. If so, that would be a wish fulfilled by a falling star. However, that doesn’t mean I spend the rest of my life thinking I didn’t tell him. The twenty-first-century girl is back and in charge.
I murmur, “I thought we connected, somehow…I can’t explain, but I felt it.”
Raag doesn’t say anything for some time, and that worries me. God, what am I doing? I feel a lump in my throat. No tears. No tears. I am strong, I can do this.
But Raag finally breaks the silence. “We did connect…and, I was hoping to hear from you one more time.” He pauses, and I heave a sigh of relief as if a big elephant just stepped off my chest. Then in his soothing voice, Raag adds, “One more time or maybe one last time. Ms. Mayuri Bhatt, I couldn’t wait to hear your laughter.”
Though I am relieved that he too sensed the connection, that he wanted to hear me laugh, I am also in sheer confusion. Something doesn’t add up. If Raag felt the way he did, why would he not pick up the damn phone and say hello?
“You did?” I ask but do not wait for his reply and exclaim, “I was just a phone call away!”
“Yes, I was scared of that…”
“Scared of talking with me again?”
“Scared of the way I felt about you.” Raag stops, inhales, continues. “It’s inexplicable. I kept searching for the answer. I didn’t know what it was. At least, I know now,” he says, and I have to find out what he knows now that he didn’t before.
“What is it?”
“Mayuri, go home!” Raag suddenly changes the subject, and I am taken aback. He quickly assures, “I will call you on your father’s cell phone as soon as possible. Go home, please?” His voice changes to a request.
“Would you please tell me? I am not going home!”
I have to find out. I can’t go home without knowing. Also, I cannot go home without telling him how I feel. What if I go home and he doesn’t call back?
“If I told you, I would be influencing your decision. You have things to consider and things to think about. You are very young. But I promise I will try and explain as soon as you are home,” Raag says, and suddenly I feel tired of everyone calling me young. Especially him!
Though Raag wouldn’t share his thoughts, I have to share mine. There is a possibility that Raag would forever consider me young and impulsive, that he would never talk to me again. At least telling him would put my heart at peace.
I remind myself of the reason I found the courage deep down in my belly to call Raag. The streak of the falling star, the small change in the universe, yet suggesting the most significant truth—the importance of time and uncertainty of life. Life is for sure a mere existence like that falling star—one minute you are a nomadic traveler of the space and the other, you are dust! There is only so much time we have on this planet, and it rarely happens that one soul finds solace with the other. When one discovers it, one should not wait for a lifetime to lay it out there. Time doesn’t stop for anyone.
I take a few calming breaths while Raag is quietly contemplating over something. Now calm and confident, I speak. “Raag, you asked me to share with you if I found my penguin.”
“Yes, I did.” He is prompt in his reply.
“I found mine!” I announce and sense a pang of confidence and a ring of excitement in my voice while I hear him inhale and exhale.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Do I know him?” Raag is curious now, and that makes me smile softly.
“You do.”
“Who?” He is a bit impatient, I think. “Tell me.”
“Though I know that you think I am too young, I believe I am old enough to understand love. And…um, I know that the way I feel about you is love.” I take a few calming breaths before speaking more. “It’s hard to explain the specifics of how and why and what. How those couple of phone calls made me fall for you. But I did, Raag. I fell in love with you.” I pause and do not think about his silence. Because this is my moment and I am going to be fully in charge of it.
God! I said that!
I continue in a subtle tone. “You are, that perfectly imperfect penguin! Made just right for me.”
Quickly I glance outside to make sure no one is looking at me or eavesdropping on my conversation. There are a couple of boys from the neighborhood curiously looming around the booth. Nobody wants Mayuri’s short-lived love story in the daily newspaper of Kamal Bungalows, my housing community.