Rawal pretends to be busy and starts reading a file leaning against his tall black ergonomic chair. I wonder what gives him back pain. Maybe it is his uptight demeanor. He looks up momentarily observing both of us and looks back into his papers saying, “What can I do about it?”
Anju swallows politely. “Sir, can we do something to get them off? Maybe extra assignments?” Her low voice is barely audible now. I never imagined Anju having that tone in her. But again, this is the devil’s pit! The devil has the tendency to break the bravest of souls.
Professor Rawal finally rests the file on the table and looks up. Skipping his glasses, he stares at both of us, lifts up a pen, and points it at Anju. “You…I can do something for you.” He rolls his chair slightly at me, points that stabbing pen at me and affirms, “You…I can’t. Sorry. Too many absences,” he concludes and stares at me, dropping his pen on the table.
It feels as if I have some incurable disease and an arrogant doctor just announced matter-of-factly that he can’t do anything for me, that I will die like a lot of his other patients—mere mortals on this planet.
I squeeze the book harder against my chest, hoping it will help me breathe. “Sir…I…” I try to open my mouth, but words fail me. My hands tremble, and I drop the heavy book on my legs. “Aww…” I groan with pain.
Embarrassed, I bend down at once to pick it up. Before I get up, I hear the professor. “So, yes, Anju. You can write ten extra assignments on data structure. Take the list from Arjun.”
“Okay, sir,” Anju mumbles as I manage to stand back up on my shaky legs. “Sir, for Mayuri…if you can accept—”
Before she can finish her sentence, Professor Rawal firmly says, “Speak for yourself.” Which sounds more like every man for himself. “Go before I change my mind about you too.” He nods his head, smiling smugly.
I have a vague feeling that Rawal is somewhat enjoying this ordeal. Oh, this is all my fault. I brought this embarrassment upon myself. I shouldn’t have let Anju drag me to the devil’s pit. Also, not miss too many classes.
My dear best friend, Anju, is not one to give up too soon. “But sir—”
Rawal points his demeaning pen at us and summons “Out…both of you! There are other students in line.”
Without any further protest, halfheartedly, we head out like defeated soldiers since the battle is not entirely won. Anju looks disappointed in herself as she couldn’t convince the devil to show some mercy.
There is a lot more than just a detain list in my head—marriage and moving to the US provides a good distraction. I keep it quiet in the small gathering arranged to discuss the saga of the damn detain list at the Green Leaf.
My fellow friends—most spared and some not—address the damn detain list and the unfairness of it. After a good hour of thoughtful or thoughtless bickering, we head for home. I manage not to cry on the bus to avoid unnecessary attention and also maintain the same throughout my community ramp walk.
Evenings like this are spared for no mommy time. Early dinner and pajamas after a quick shower sound divine. At 6:30 PM, it’s dark enough to sit out on the balcony and not gain much attention.
We have a white solo swing chair with a stand, set up on my balcony for me to sit and talk. Happens to be a birthday gift from my boyfriend, Mr. Raag Purohit. Not sure how he managed to get my father’s permission but surprisingly, my father himself got it fixed for me, and even praised Raag’s idea of this gift.
Yes, they are bonding! Slowly and steadily.
Now that I swing on the wicker chair in the reasonably cold winter breeze, I am no longer angry but worried.
If my parents find out about the damn list, I will be in a lot of trouble. At times, this world and its problems seem futile.
You mean your problems!
I mute my subconscious and close my eyes. All I need now is to be with Raag, to be in his arms and forget the rest of the cynical world. I curl up in the chair further, hugging my legs closer to my chest and gazing at the darkening sky and the setting sun that will continue its journey to the other end and awaken my love, my Raag.
And, like that as if the sun indeed awakened him, my Ericsson rings to life with a call from Raag. I pick it up at once.
“Ms. Bhatt, good morning.” His voice is like a breath of fresh air, full of energy. It makes me want him more in this moment.
“Hi,” I murmur.
“Are you okay?” Raag asks worriedly. I wonder how he knows what I feel by merely hearing just one word.
I contemplate if I should share the saga with him. Yes, I should.
“Maybe…no,” I reply with a sigh. “I am not.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and I can’t control anymore and let out my stifled tears. “Mayu…are you crying?” Raag pauses while I weep. “Please, don’t! Tell me what happened. Whatever it is, I will take care of it. Talk to me.”
His voice is like an elixir, which makes me cry even more. Though I know that with a thoughtful tactic—and some help from other professors, maybe—I could probably handle this issue on my own, yet I still wish Raag will solve it for me. However, even if Raag wanted to help, he couldn’t possibly do so, given that he lives in the north pole. Metaphorically speaking. Besides, Arizona is far from being like the north pole.
Well, in this desperate time of gloom, I do want him to take care of everything. At some point in life, it is okay for a headstrong twenty-first-century girl to want a knight with shining armor to rescue her from the dungeons of the dark.
“Mayu…” Raag says as if it is taking him all the patience in him to say my name. “Please?”
Eventually, I manage to speak. “Okay…”
Then I share the whole incident in a tearful voice. Raag carefully listens, and once I am done, he utters, “That’s not a big deal! Do you want me to call that professor?”
WHAT!
I can’t contain the horror. “What?”
What’s up with Raag calling people to resolve issues? First my father, now Professor Rawal.
This young man is the opposite of any man I have ever known. He stays calm and has these straightforward ways of resolving almost any problematic puzzles. For a second, I appreciate Arjun’s overzealous reaction over my dear boyfriend’s no-big-deal-I-can-help-you-with-that-too attitude.
“I can try and explain to him.” Raag interrupts my stream of wayward thoughts.
I sigh. “Explain that at times you and your girlfriend get madly immersed in long distant romancing that we lose track of time. Hence your girlfriend bunked classes?”
Raag laughs as if I have cracked a joke. Though I am annoyed, his chuckles do lift my spirits. Just about enough to melt my anger.
“There she is. My warrior princess!” Raag cheers me.
“Raag! I seriously want to kill that professor, and those morons who scoffed in the class!”
“Whoa…calm down, love! I know you inherit those killer instincts, but we don’t kill. Not even hypothetically. Please, don’t get into any trouble involving cops. I don’t want you to run into any visa issues.”
“Though it’s not easy, I will try. Worst case, I have Anju. If I kill them, she will come up with some crazy plot to hide the corpses,” I say, and Raag bursts into laughter. Wistfully, I listen to Raag’s laughter mixed with the rhythm of the wind. It must be a beautiful sight. I wonder when I will get to see him laugh without the magic portal.