Re posting from My notes in FB
It was d summer of 99 n I was prety lonley then coz my friend pratik had left 2 india for summer and all i had was a cycle..
I and my brother used to tap bat at our varanda, and dat was d time v noticed two luk alike kids walking down stairs.. V didnt speak, just gave a glance at each other.
Later part of the day i learned from my dad that a teachers family had moved in to the 1st floor.
Two or three days passed and one evening these two luk alike kids came and rang my door and asked coming for cycling.. I didnt hesitate to nod..
Soon v wer on d streets cycling.. Oh i forgot to introduce em..
The two luk alikes where umair n shuja, and i was always confused at the begining to who was the elder 1, n who was umair n hu was shuja.. So i always used to call em 2gadr..
Days went by, v became gud friends, i didnt know much of hindi, n dey became my gurus.. Our parents are couleges so v didnt have any limits to entering each others houses..
V started of wid cycling and yeah v had d guns.. ' i shoot u die ' it was a famous dialouge then..
Cycling shifted to foot ball, we three used to play all alone in the ideal ground.
Our interests changed from foot ball to skating to family vedio games, to euro 2000.
Seasons changed, ramzan was alot of fun, where v ran for harees after asar n then direct to tennis court to play tennis.. And in the night, tharavi was not just prayer time, v bunged em after d first half, and used to run back to d white house beating d cars, beating any one who got out of d mosque 1st.
Rani juice then and sat at our adda..
Years passed out, v grew wid d time, pratik joined in so did cricket.. And the other kids of white house joined.
V had awsome eids when v went around collecting eidy n played water bombs.. Oh fuck dat was always fukin funny..
V played caroms, table tennis on our dining table.. Dat was d time shuja pulled azher's pant down..( he was big tym gay 4m childhood)
v walked to school and back togather, and even stoped eating chocobar ice creams for various strange reasons..
V went for morning walks, ate at hot n cool
Umair pasd out 12th, he xpectd 80's in math but turnd out to be 35.. Me n shuja had a hell of a time laughing at it.
Dat year i was in 11th n shuja in 12th n dat winter i got a call from my clas mate n friend zaheer.. 'hey am comin to white house to live '
soon this assole became part of our life.. He used to call daily morning to say that he got up.. It had gone to that extend that 1 day my father asked me ' are u and zaheer married '..
Life went on, shuja pasd 12th, left for india, but never the less he always usd to b back evry 2 months.. Tanks to naila..
I too left for india the next year, it was then i realised what i had in qatar and what i dont have in india were these 3 assholes... V grew up physicaly n nt cmpletely mentaly.. Rani juice shiftd to mountain dew. Hubs took over chocolates, sheesha took ova cigerates
Days passed by turned into months and years. Gals came into our lives nd did many oders, our interests of study are diverse, our lifestyles r diverse, V keep meeting up 2gather every 6 months. Thanks to the internet and tele communication.. V dont feel the gap created by the countries v are in..
We are still united, our friendship have grown to cross bariers of any kind, v r brothers from diffrnt mothers..
V have had arguments, v have had mis understandings.. But none of em have torn us apart..
V pull at each other, so much that zaheer had sealed his mouth when ever he sat wid us.
Times have passed and now its 10 years of glory to all d fun, gayishness, moder fukin jokes n great foolishnes..
These 10 years of my life would neva have been so great wid out these 3..
chears to d long lasting friendship and braader hud..
iam guoting sumfin dat umair had 1ce said, but then it would have to be completly censored...
' aye dost tere liye hum jaam bi lutalenge..
Behen **** to hum hai hi
tere liye Maa bi **** lengey..
Long Live Pappu's Kraazy 4.
TRK
Friday, February 19, 2010
D Tennis court stories...!!
Published long back as a note on FB..!!
It was friday after noon, my door bell rang at 2.30.
I huried to the door licking biriyani on fingers..
As usual found pratik with a big smile and a slazanger bat in his hand. 'lets go to play, umair has gone to pick atif, zaher is down, imran is coming, emad is on his way..Hari n charan wil b der by 3 n i'l call azar now...Jaldi aa..' all that used to spelt out within a second or two.. 'oh yea, mei sabrina se tape lekey ata hu, black loo ya white..?' and he used to hurry back.
I rushd back finishd wid mamma's fud.. N just aftr i got out of d wash room got 3 mis calls on my cell.. And d 3rd 1 was prety long.. And d 4th time the phone rang, 'kidar hai khuttey..? jaldi aa, hum w8 kar rahe hai, parking mei..' oh it was umair..
Wid slipers on and no shoes, i ran to d car park.. Oh gawd all of em had come. Imran also reachd.. And v startd to d tennis court. That was supposd to be lockd by mr.Siraj aka bulldog.. But that wasnt a problem as long as we bend the grills and got in..
I, pratik n zaheer where walkin talkin about d skool team, atif n imran were talkin about d latest release, umair was walking up front swinging his bat.. And that had a quote invented by none other than him self.
It read ' a perfect shot makes a good stroke ' hahaha, omg from the least aged boys who used to come to play to the most aged ones had made a remark about it..
We began playing at 3.30. In scroching sun, where heat didnt mater, it was just cricket.. The phones were rowd up on the basket ball stand.. Two chairs were at each side as wickets.
Teams where quite similar always. There was fun n frolic, loud shouts, arguments about run outs, quarels..
I was standing at the non striker's end and pratik was bating, i just had a seconds time to realize that the ball was traveling towards me, before i could try any ting it came and banged my groin. I fell finding it hard to breath, silence roard the court and pratik said ' meine to dheerey mara ta..' every body broke out laughing..
Atif would be bating and all that zaheer does is bouncer. Poor boy gets hit on head, on chest but never gave his wicket away.
Imran would count it to cheating when he was out, and imad would blame the ball. He ran like shoib aktar but bowld like rana..N Hari always found it easy to get a knee injury..
Nakul n nigel also joined us ocassionaly, nakul just had 1 shot that was his leg side flick.. And nigel always wantd more of the 10 over matches..
Hehe, v played till every body xhausted themself, v broke the window of the toilet opposite to tennis court, v broke chairs, v broke tube lights, bats and even made cracks where we used to tap the bats.. No body botherd about our girl friends calling even if they did no body attended coz cricket was and is the first love, it is in the blood
Everybody returnd home with smiles, leaving behind the fights and arguments, it was always happy endings.. V pulled at each other, walked hand in hand back to the car park.
And now its another friday, and i sit here as a c.A under training sipping the tea that the office boy just brought.. I know i wont here the knock at my door, i wont have mis cals, no body will go and pick any one, every one are buzy with college, training, house hold tings, studys, projects and even girls...
I know v will never play in the tennis court the way v played then, even if v play v wouldnt have the fun v had, v wouldnt pull at each other, it will be just a game..
Mr.Siraj wuldnt come n shout, mr.Kartikeyan wouldnt come n discus shedules.. Its all ova.. Wat d fuck..
Those were truely d best days of our life..
And i wish i could re live those days again...!!
TRK
It was friday after noon, my door bell rang at 2.30.
I huried to the door licking biriyani on fingers..
As usual found pratik with a big smile and a slazanger bat in his hand. 'lets go to play, umair has gone to pick atif, zaher is down, imran is coming, emad is on his way..Hari n charan wil b der by 3 n i'l call azar now...Jaldi aa..' all that used to spelt out within a second or two.. 'oh yea, mei sabrina se tape lekey ata hu, black loo ya white..?' and he used to hurry back.
I rushd back finishd wid mamma's fud.. N just aftr i got out of d wash room got 3 mis calls on my cell.. And d 3rd 1 was prety long.. And d 4th time the phone rang, 'kidar hai khuttey..? jaldi aa, hum w8 kar rahe hai, parking mei..' oh it was umair..
Wid slipers on and no shoes, i ran to d car park.. Oh gawd all of em had come. Imran also reachd.. And v startd to d tennis court. That was supposd to be lockd by mr.Siraj aka bulldog.. But that wasnt a problem as long as we bend the grills and got in..
I, pratik n zaheer where walkin talkin about d skool team, atif n imran were talkin about d latest release, umair was walking up front swinging his bat.. And that had a quote invented by none other than him self.
It read ' a perfect shot makes a good stroke ' hahaha, omg from the least aged boys who used to come to play to the most aged ones had made a remark about it..
We began playing at 3.30. In scroching sun, where heat didnt mater, it was just cricket.. The phones were rowd up on the basket ball stand.. Two chairs were at each side as wickets.
Teams where quite similar always. There was fun n frolic, loud shouts, arguments about run outs, quarels..
I was standing at the non striker's end and pratik was bating, i just had a seconds time to realize that the ball was traveling towards me, before i could try any ting it came and banged my groin. I fell finding it hard to breath, silence roard the court and pratik said ' meine to dheerey mara ta..' every body broke out laughing..
Atif would be bating and all that zaheer does is bouncer. Poor boy gets hit on head, on chest but never gave his wicket away.
Imran would count it to cheating when he was out, and imad would blame the ball. He ran like shoib aktar but bowld like rana..N Hari always found it easy to get a knee injury..
Nakul n nigel also joined us ocassionaly, nakul just had 1 shot that was his leg side flick.. And nigel always wantd more of the 10 over matches..
Hehe, v played till every body xhausted themself, v broke the window of the toilet opposite to tennis court, v broke chairs, v broke tube lights, bats and even made cracks where we used to tap the bats.. No body botherd about our girl friends calling even if they did no body attended coz cricket was and is the first love, it is in the blood
Everybody returnd home with smiles, leaving behind the fights and arguments, it was always happy endings.. V pulled at each other, walked hand in hand back to the car park.
And now its another friday, and i sit here as a c.A under training sipping the tea that the office boy just brought.. I know i wont here the knock at my door, i wont have mis cals, no body will go and pick any one, every one are buzy with college, training, house hold tings, studys, projects and even girls...
I know v will never play in the tennis court the way v played then, even if v play v wouldnt have the fun v had, v wouldnt pull at each other, it will be just a game..
Mr.Siraj wuldnt come n shout, mr.Kartikeyan wouldnt come n discus shedules.. Its all ova.. Wat d fuck..
Those were truely d best days of our life..
And i wish i could re live those days again...!!
TRK
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Rain in March...!!!!!!
Winter of 2004 crept through, and I was in new companies, the old ones still remaining. The main reason was that I had chosen commerce while most of the old companions chose science. Ammi had almost gone into tears when I had opted commerce. There is a blind concept about commerce to many parents, especially The Mallus. It wasn’t a chaos in my house unlike many of my friends houses, Abbu was pretty understanding about the concept of own choice of future, all he told me was that “ study the way you want to, but make sure that you are the best in it”.
Life seemed fun, thanks to my parents for adding a new member to our family, and it was never like before, festive season at home, she brought happiness and sunshine. It was early march of 05 when the phone rang and kept ringing, I was in my bed lazy as ever, didn’t mind to pick up the call. Later I noticed that, parents had gone out for shopping, Wasiq was lying next to me and I was sure even if the earth turned upside down, he wouldn’t wake up, all he would do is ask five more minutes so that he can complete his dream. The phone rang again and I hurried to answer and there it was mute the other side for some time, With a immense joy of reunion pumping my heart I asked “ Is it you …!!! “, and the reply was “eheem..eheemm..salam alaikum..”.
Back for her two months vacations, I thought twenty four hours were not enough for us to share the whole ten months that crept by. Blank calls again started taunting Abbu, and this time Ammi too. She used to put Elfy to sleep with great pain and the very next moment the phone rang, and then I was assumed to be the main culprit. The theme then in life was ‘Pyar kiya to Darna kya...!’ We talked for hours on the phone even if she was always dead busy, the wake up calls in the morning was common on holidays, there was something that always kept us attached both emotionally and mentally. The best part in her was her simplicity, the way she dressed, her attitude towards life. I haven’t seen her even once without her scarf and her body completely covered in public, she didn’t make up, never did her eyebrows, never visited the beauty parlor every week to make her looks, it was natural and simple and she was always beautiful. It was hardly that we met, not that we didn’t try to, but school kids then didn’t have as much courage, freedom as the kids today have.
The concept of early marriages for women are common among The Muslim community and its more early if the girl belongs to The Mallu community. Which I now think Is good, not that the girl’s rights are deprived of, but it makes sure that the girl sticks to her morale always, do not step into the wrong and thorny paths of life, that she have to regret about it in future. But then I was against this early marriage in my school days, and the main reason behind it was that she was getting proposals, and her father was pretty sure about her marriage once she turned eighteen. We had heated discussions, arguments, and even didn’t cut the phones in anger. Thanks to Abbu who always has been the best mentor for me, poured his advices and in. We decided to be together as long as we can, and she was pretty sure I would forget her once she shuttles back.
School was always fun, the ups and downs with the teachers and the last year rang the bells, it was for the first time in the history of ideal that the science and commerce stream of 12th were pretty friendly. The friendship resulted in a one day picnic to Waqra and it was ultimate fun, Volley ball, pranks and Barb Q, all most all the students of science and commerce had turned up, except a few. Zaheer couldn’t turn up because he faired bad in the Informatics Exam and since Mr. Atif was his neighbor he was under house arrest. I, Niyas, Jojo, Arif, Vaishak, Faris, Ali, Sami, Aravind, and the list was long. We had fun in the sun, it was memorable, that were captured in both the digital cameras and our hearts. Azad and hafiz had to leave early and I along with Ali planned to drop them at the school. It was then I remembered that it was their Madrasa Annual Day, and even she was performing. Although I had told her I wouldn’t turn up. I made sure that I got entry to watch the show; Azad and Hafiz were great help. I ran back home, was successful at impressing Abbu and with a low tone asked permission to go and watch the show, and to my surprise he agreed.
I stepped in and found Nabeel who was one of my junior near the gate, he helped me with the information about their dressing rooms and the places where I would get into trouble. A group song was on, and the sound seemed familiar, we rushed, and it was Iqbal’s ‘Lab pe aati hai dua ‘ that was being sung, and my heart beat rose, lips went dry, I felt the whole crowed stuck and just the one lead girl who was singing in motion, Back into sense I noticed that it was my uncle who was with at the video and to make her know that I reached I walked up to him and offered assistance, he was more than happy to take me in. Standing right in front she failed to notice, but my eyes were always shooting at her eyes. Never did she look at me, nor did she lose her concentration from the song, later on Nabeel informed me about her next program that was scheduled for late night. We tried finding her near the dressing room, each time we tried each time we failed, almost around the time for her show to begin, I looked up the sky, not that I was praying something, but I felt as if a drop of water fell on my hand.
One more drop, and then it started to drizzle hard, the crowed panicked and rushed for covers, Nabeel shouted to run for covers and we both ran in the crowed, I accidently almost gave a wrong step and was about to collide on to someone but stopped, looked up and saw it was her, we didn’t know how to react, smile, ignore, get excited about the whole situation, I was blank, and so was she. The drizzle hit our faces, and we stood still looking into each other’s eyes, both lost for words and stuck in the rain, Eyes spoke, while the crowed rushed. All of a sudden a lady came and caught hold of her hand started walking, she did walk with the lady but her eyes were still on me. The showers increased momentum and I stood still until Nabeel pulled me for covers. It was filmy..!!!
That was the last time we ever met, and it was truly special, rain in last week of march was special, We knew we would never be together, nor we would meet at any juncture of our lives, another year and she would share her life with someone, I still had long way to go, pursue my dreams. More than ninety percent of first loves have failed to succeed in the world and more than ninety percent of the failed first lovers always ended up being enemies. But am thank full to god that mine wasn’t that case, although we never talk to each other now, a surprise walk up call and her name in my recent visitors list at times, always gives joy not because I love her like I loved before, but the nostalgic feelings that rushes to my heart at times rushes to her heart too.
The End.
TRK
Life seemed fun, thanks to my parents for adding a new member to our family, and it was never like before, festive season at home, she brought happiness and sunshine. It was early march of 05 when the phone rang and kept ringing, I was in my bed lazy as ever, didn’t mind to pick up the call. Later I noticed that, parents had gone out for shopping, Wasiq was lying next to me and I was sure even if the earth turned upside down, he wouldn’t wake up, all he would do is ask five more minutes so that he can complete his dream. The phone rang again and I hurried to answer and there it was mute the other side for some time, With a immense joy of reunion pumping my heart I asked “ Is it you …!!! “, and the reply was “eheem..eheemm..salam alaikum..”.
Back for her two months vacations, I thought twenty four hours were not enough for us to share the whole ten months that crept by. Blank calls again started taunting Abbu, and this time Ammi too. She used to put Elfy to sleep with great pain and the very next moment the phone rang, and then I was assumed to be the main culprit. The theme then in life was ‘Pyar kiya to Darna kya...!’ We talked for hours on the phone even if she was always dead busy, the wake up calls in the morning was common on holidays, there was something that always kept us attached both emotionally and mentally. The best part in her was her simplicity, the way she dressed, her attitude towards life. I haven’t seen her even once without her scarf and her body completely covered in public, she didn’t make up, never did her eyebrows, never visited the beauty parlor every week to make her looks, it was natural and simple and she was always beautiful. It was hardly that we met, not that we didn’t try to, but school kids then didn’t have as much courage, freedom as the kids today have.
The concept of early marriages for women are common among The Muslim community and its more early if the girl belongs to The Mallu community. Which I now think Is good, not that the girl’s rights are deprived of, but it makes sure that the girl sticks to her morale always, do not step into the wrong and thorny paths of life, that she have to regret about it in future. But then I was against this early marriage in my school days, and the main reason behind it was that she was getting proposals, and her father was pretty sure about her marriage once she turned eighteen. We had heated discussions, arguments, and even didn’t cut the phones in anger. Thanks to Abbu who always has been the best mentor for me, poured his advices and in. We decided to be together as long as we can, and she was pretty sure I would forget her once she shuttles back.
School was always fun, the ups and downs with the teachers and the last year rang the bells, it was for the first time in the history of ideal that the science and commerce stream of 12th were pretty friendly. The friendship resulted in a one day picnic to Waqra and it was ultimate fun, Volley ball, pranks and Barb Q, all most all the students of science and commerce had turned up, except a few. Zaheer couldn’t turn up because he faired bad in the Informatics Exam and since Mr. Atif was his neighbor he was under house arrest. I, Niyas, Jojo, Arif, Vaishak, Faris, Ali, Sami, Aravind, and the list was long. We had fun in the sun, it was memorable, that were captured in both the digital cameras and our hearts. Azad and hafiz had to leave early and I along with Ali planned to drop them at the school. It was then I remembered that it was their Madrasa Annual Day, and even she was performing. Although I had told her I wouldn’t turn up. I made sure that I got entry to watch the show; Azad and Hafiz were great help. I ran back home, was successful at impressing Abbu and with a low tone asked permission to go and watch the show, and to my surprise he agreed.
I stepped in and found Nabeel who was one of my junior near the gate, he helped me with the information about their dressing rooms and the places where I would get into trouble. A group song was on, and the sound seemed familiar, we rushed, and it was Iqbal’s ‘Lab pe aati hai dua ‘ that was being sung, and my heart beat rose, lips went dry, I felt the whole crowed stuck and just the one lead girl who was singing in motion, Back into sense I noticed that it was my uncle who was with at the video and to make her know that I reached I walked up to him and offered assistance, he was more than happy to take me in. Standing right in front she failed to notice, but my eyes were always shooting at her eyes. Never did she look at me, nor did she lose her concentration from the song, later on Nabeel informed me about her next program that was scheduled for late night. We tried finding her near the dressing room, each time we tried each time we failed, almost around the time for her show to begin, I looked up the sky, not that I was praying something, but I felt as if a drop of water fell on my hand.
One more drop, and then it started to drizzle hard, the crowed panicked and rushed for covers, Nabeel shouted to run for covers and we both ran in the crowed, I accidently almost gave a wrong step and was about to collide on to someone but stopped, looked up and saw it was her, we didn’t know how to react, smile, ignore, get excited about the whole situation, I was blank, and so was she. The drizzle hit our faces, and we stood still looking into each other’s eyes, both lost for words and stuck in the rain, Eyes spoke, while the crowed rushed. All of a sudden a lady came and caught hold of her hand started walking, she did walk with the lady but her eyes were still on me. The showers increased momentum and I stood still until Nabeel pulled me for covers. It was filmy..!!!
That was the last time we ever met, and it was truly special, rain in last week of march was special, We knew we would never be together, nor we would meet at any juncture of our lives, another year and she would share her life with someone, I still had long way to go, pursue my dreams. More than ninety percent of first loves have failed to succeed in the world and more than ninety percent of the failed first lovers always ended up being enemies. But am thank full to god that mine wasn’t that case, although we never talk to each other now, a surprise walk up call and her name in my recent visitors list at times, always gives joy not because I love her like I loved before, but the nostalgic feelings that rushes to my heart at times rushes to her heart too.
The End.
TRK
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
First Love..!!!!
The sun rose pretty fast in the month of June in Doha and it was almost 5.30 when Abbu came to pull my blanket and rush me to toilet. Wasiq was lying next to me and signaling five minutes more please. I haven’t seen anyone who wouldn’t love to sleep extra five minutes more than their alarm time. After finishing with the Morning Prayer, I packed my bags for school. The first term examination papers where to be distributed and to my luck Dr. Khurshid was my class teacher in charge, I always knew my marks beforehand and it wasn’t something of a surprise for me unlike my class mates.
The hugs and hi-fi's started right from the entrance gate till the door steps of 10th A. Zaheer, Pratik and I always had a morning walk together to the school, Arif and Vaishak Joined us at the school gate, and Nigel, Nakul, Rameez, Jojo, Mobin, Saleel, Ali, Misam all joined on the way to class. Days of results passed by pretty fast as most of the students like to keep it as a saccharine memory for long time.
The summer vacations poured in and almost all my friends had fled for India and I was asked to attend science tuitions as my results weren’t exemplary, it’s always a tensed time for almost all the Indian parents when their wards study grade 10th and 12th. I was to attend Mrs. Meera’s classes for science that was a subject that gave me the worst nightmares in life till then, Four to six every alternate day eve and I thought I had enough reasons to think my summer was spoiled.
The early days in class were pretty boring, I was to sit alone and there were no other boys in the class, it was at five that the door bell rang at Mrs. Meera’s residence and since nobody turned up and I found myself gazing at a cute smiling girl covering herself from head to toe with her black Abaya, her Hijab beautifully covering her face, she smiled and the innocence in her smile swept me off my feet, feeling a little surprised to see me around she asked “ You too here..!!”
Zaheer joined in after his short cricket tour of Pakistan, and so did Ali and Misam, and for once I started getting back my summer which I thought I had lost. Mrs. Meera used to ask me certain things I did while I shopped, while I walked the streets and for once I felt I was being watched by someone. I was curious to know the source and then I noticed Ammi talking to a girl dressed in salwar kamiz at The Bida park and was shocked to see the same girl for whom I opened the door. Things soon became crystal clear and the source got revealed. Soon pranks started being played on both the sides and I used to walk up and down to the tutor when she sat with the girls in the other room to have a look at her, and she turned her head down each time I stepped into ask a doubt. It was Geline my friend Salman’s girl friend who was the link to the beginning of our friendship.
Oh yeah I forgot to reveal her name, well let it be unrevealed behind her Abaya, Soon school reopened and Salman became my full time agent and so did Geline for her. Mobile phones weren’t a common mans essential then, so I did not find one in my pocket, it was the landline that connected us, but it was pretty difficult for both of us because it was to be kept secret from our parents and soon Thursday evenings became the scheduled time for calls as our parents would go shopping. Miss calls on the land line became common and Abbu used to get furious when he picked the phone and there was no answer at from the other side. Life changed and so did I feel I was in love for the first time with her and never did she say a NO. Salman’s foolishness caused one of the love letters to leak and the affair was soon spread among our friends.
Months passed by and boards arrived and it was the school time I was alone at home and we spend hours on phone although not continuous, the other side used to give beep sounds when her mother stepped in at times. We discussed everything that any youth of the age would, from living habits, books to even our chances of a life together. A famous movies song had a line which said “the prince and princes of the storey would reunite and for that they lighted lamps together “, which we thought would hold true in our case too. We hardly met, never touched each other, it was all our eyes that did the talking when we ever met coincidentally at the junior wing ground. Board exam results came out and for my parent’s surprise I scored pretty good, and I always thought two ladies behind my success in school life was Ammi and her.
She was asked to leave for India for her further studies and for the first time in life I enjoyed the pain of detachment, I missed the phone calls that woke me up in holidays, I missed the smile I got from the bus that crossed the gate while I entered, I missed the face that always turned back and gave a sad look when the school got over, I missed the sound on the other side whenever I answered a call. I felt left out in the crowed, but always felt it is few months and she would be back and with little sadness in mind I waited for a call that said “ hmm..hmm.. salam alaikum..”.
To be continued.
TRK
The hugs and hi-fi's started right from the entrance gate till the door steps of 10th A. Zaheer, Pratik and I always had a morning walk together to the school, Arif and Vaishak Joined us at the school gate, and Nigel, Nakul, Rameez, Jojo, Mobin, Saleel, Ali, Misam all joined on the way to class. Days of results passed by pretty fast as most of the students like to keep it as a saccharine memory for long time.
The summer vacations poured in and almost all my friends had fled for India and I was asked to attend science tuitions as my results weren’t exemplary, it’s always a tensed time for almost all the Indian parents when their wards study grade 10th and 12th. I was to attend Mrs. Meera’s classes for science that was a subject that gave me the worst nightmares in life till then, Four to six every alternate day eve and I thought I had enough reasons to think my summer was spoiled.
The early days in class were pretty boring, I was to sit alone and there were no other boys in the class, it was at five that the door bell rang at Mrs. Meera’s residence and since nobody turned up and I found myself gazing at a cute smiling girl covering herself from head to toe with her black Abaya, her Hijab beautifully covering her face, she smiled and the innocence in her smile swept me off my feet, feeling a little surprised to see me around she asked “ You too here..!!”
Zaheer joined in after his short cricket tour of Pakistan, and so did Ali and Misam, and for once I started getting back my summer which I thought I had lost. Mrs. Meera used to ask me certain things I did while I shopped, while I walked the streets and for once I felt I was being watched by someone. I was curious to know the source and then I noticed Ammi talking to a girl dressed in salwar kamiz at The Bida park and was shocked to see the same girl for whom I opened the door. Things soon became crystal clear and the source got revealed. Soon pranks started being played on both the sides and I used to walk up and down to the tutor when she sat with the girls in the other room to have a look at her, and she turned her head down each time I stepped into ask a doubt. It was Geline my friend Salman’s girl friend who was the link to the beginning of our friendship.
Oh yeah I forgot to reveal her name, well let it be unrevealed behind her Abaya, Soon school reopened and Salman became my full time agent and so did Geline for her. Mobile phones weren’t a common mans essential then, so I did not find one in my pocket, it was the landline that connected us, but it was pretty difficult for both of us because it was to be kept secret from our parents and soon Thursday evenings became the scheduled time for calls as our parents would go shopping. Miss calls on the land line became common and Abbu used to get furious when he picked the phone and there was no answer at from the other side. Life changed and so did I feel I was in love for the first time with her and never did she say a NO. Salman’s foolishness caused one of the love letters to leak and the affair was soon spread among our friends.
Months passed by and boards arrived and it was the school time I was alone at home and we spend hours on phone although not continuous, the other side used to give beep sounds when her mother stepped in at times. We discussed everything that any youth of the age would, from living habits, books to even our chances of a life together. A famous movies song had a line which said “the prince and princes of the storey would reunite and for that they lighted lamps together “, which we thought would hold true in our case too. We hardly met, never touched each other, it was all our eyes that did the talking when we ever met coincidentally at the junior wing ground. Board exam results came out and for my parent’s surprise I scored pretty good, and I always thought two ladies behind my success in school life was Ammi and her.
She was asked to leave for India for her further studies and for the first time in life I enjoyed the pain of detachment, I missed the phone calls that woke me up in holidays, I missed the smile I got from the bus that crossed the gate while I entered, I missed the face that always turned back and gave a sad look when the school got over, I missed the sound on the other side whenever I answered a call. I felt left out in the crowed, but always felt it is few months and she would be back and with little sadness in mind I waited for a call that said “ hmm..hmm.. salam alaikum..”.
To be continued.
TRK
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