It was 8.30 a.m. and I had reached the gates of the local branch of the State
Bank of India, Mumbai. The bank would open its shutters at 9.00 a.m. but
pensioners, like me, are there in full strength in the first week of every
month to update their passbooks, to see if the pension has been credited on
time, if the interest has been computed correctly, if the DA has been
adjusted….We know all this would happen on their own but we too need some
excitement, some reason to get dressed early morning and show to the people that
we still had our importance. The entrance outside, and then the waiting area within,
till about 10.00 a.m., is a wonderful meeting place for grey heads like us. Most
of us know each other well, where we were working earlier, who’s at home and,
of course, we love to discuss politics and sports….the two things that still
give us the adrenaline rush. Once in a while, we do come across a stranger but
then we ignore the arrival of such migratory birds to our sanctuary.
At 10 a.m., the most disinterested person in the branch, who was
assigned the task of updating the passbooks, would arrive and the work would
commence. We pensioners are, however, the old world types who would maintain strict
discipline, stand in proper queue and if anyone was seen jumping in between, he
would be almost lynched for we could all quote verbatim from HR Manuals and lecture
on the declining trend of moral character in the youth. Today, the bank clerk was also assigned an
additional task of accepting deposit cheques as a number of staff members had
yet to return from the summer vacations. After about fifteen minutes, it was my
turn to face the grumpy man.
Please issue me a fresh passbook.
This one is almost over. Update in the new one.
No Uncle, I can’t issue a new one
today. There is still half a page left in this one plus the bar code stickers
are not there. Come next month and I will try and help you.
It must be fortunate today that the passbook printer was working and I
was able to get back my passbook quickly. As I was standing there and checking
the last few entries, a woman, who was next in line to me went up to the clerk
to deposit a cheque.
Aunty, please fill up the deposit
slip and put the cheque in the box there. Kyon time waste karti ho!
No, I want you to accept this
cheque as it is very important that this goes for clearance today itself.
Ok Auntyji…..please fill up the
deposit slip completely and you need to sign here as well.
I was staring at the slim and smart woman. She was wearing a simple yet
crisp starched Bengal handloom saree, had short hair that was completely white except
for a few black strands here and there, a big handbag that she had slung over
her shoulder. She looked at me and I quickly turned my glare away towards my
passbook when I heard her say…May I use your
pen for a moment, please?
Yes..yes of course…. as I quickly handed my Parker pen to her. I
saw her complete the deposit slip and then, finally, sign on it….that was a
strange signature she had….she wrote the two alphabets of her name in a manner
that reminded me of someone long ago who did exactly the same….the right arm of
A would go lower down and then make a curve like a q followed by the rest of
the letters….Aparajita D.
As she handed over the pen to me, I smiled at her and told her about my
college mate at Delhi who signed her name in an identical fashion as her. She stopped
and turned her eyes towards me and tried uncovering the face behind my beard
and asked….you are from which college?
Hindu College….History 1979-82
batch.
You are Guna, right! exclaimed the lady, with her hand covering her
mouth, open in amazement.
And you are Aparjita Dhar….Oh my
God! This is unbelievable.
And we started laughing aloud oblivious of the other people watching us
till the guard walked up and in soft
tone said….log disturb ho rahe hain…aap
please baahar ja ke baat karein. And so we did.
What are you doing here? She asked.
I am here for the last thirty
years. After college, tried a few odd jobs but then finally joined the Times as
a journalist and worked there all my life till I retired last year. What about
you?
Oh, it is a long story and it
will take time. So why don’t you come over to my house this evening and have
dinner. Here, write down my address….204A, Creek View, Motilal Nagar, Goregaon
and my phone number is 982……
As I put the slip of paper and pen in the pocket of my khadi kurta, she waved and walked to a
black sedan…Honda City… and drove away. Usually, I would take an auto rickshaw
to return home but, today, I was in a mood to enjoy the sudden meeting with an
old friend….not just any friend…Aparjita…. I wish I still had my college
notebooks; they would have this name written so many times, in so many fonts
and colours all over the last pages. And as I walked back with a broad smile on
my face, I kept checking the piece of paper in my pocket which was for me the
map to the long lost treasure.
As I entered my one BHK apartment near Goregaon Station, I could hear
the Mumbai local trains, perennially overflowing with people, running past each
other in two different directions, while in my mind, trains of fond memories
kept rolling in. Sitting on the rocking chair and watching the fan blades as
they moved around making a screeching noise, I heard the doorbell ring. Mini, my saviour, had arrived. She was
a chirpy, young girl of about eighteen who would do my washing, cleaning and
cooking. On the days she would take off, it meant, I would somehow have to
manage with Maggie, eggs and fruits.
Kya Uncle, were you sleeping? I rang the bell four times before you opened.
Oh…I did not hear the bell as I
was in the washroom.
As she started cleaning the house, I went to the bathroom and stood in
front of the mirror…..hair going places….beard completely unkempt…crumpled
kurta….No this won’t do. I cannot go to her house looking like this….
As I emerged from the washroom after twenty minutes, Mini saw me and was
awe- struck….speechless she was, and then she started giggling….Uncle yeh kya hua….sab nikaal diya? Hero lag
rahe ho….sachhi…aai shapath!
Shhhh stop it Mini…just do your
work. You don’t have to cook dinner for me today. I am going out to a friend’s
place…..
Arrey wah…who’s this friend
Uncle…never heard of anyone before? Someone special…haan!
I was too embarrassed to answer. After she left, I too went out. My
first port of call was Ajanta Hair Dresser.
Santosh Bhai, please cut my hair short.
Don’t use the razor, just the scissors and trimmer and no shapes on the back,
just a natural slope.
Santosh had been my regular person for over twenty years now, but today
he was surprised at my request to cut the hair short for my regular style had
been to keep slightly long hair, only the extra growth to be trimmed and, that
too, once in a quarter. Anyway after finishing, he asked….Sir should I dye your hair as well…ekdum hero lagoge aap!
I just nodded my head in denial, paid him his money and a generous tip
which brought a big smile to his face. I looked once more in the mirror and
almost asked….Mirror Mirror on the wall….
My next stop was the Cambridge Shop on S.V. Road. I always found it to
be economical and good. While most other people, I knew, promoted bigger
brands, I was fine with this old shop where the bargains were such that I could
buy my entire year’s clothes by paying a small amount. I picked up a couple of shirts from the
shelves and went to the trial room. I first wore a red and black checked shirt
and admired myself in the mirror and then I tried a charcoal black shirt. Which
one will be better to wear tonight….the informal check or the evening
black? This is tough….all my life I have
always worn white shirts, so this was not a question I ever had to answer but
today was different. After a while, I took the help of the store girl and asked
for her opinion….Both look good, Sir. You
should take both and with a purchase of two, you get a trouser free!
So, finally, with a nice haircut, two shirts, a denim trouser and a Bata
sandal packed in multiple bags, I sneaked into my house….dropped them on the
bed and, like an excited kid, opened up the packets and wore all the clothes
one after the other…admiring myself in the mirror.
After a light lunch of two chapatis
and sabzi, I just kept looking at the
clock….was it moving slowly today and my pulse running fast….why is clock arm
taking so long going from one number to another? Switched on the television but
could not stand the cat fights on almost every channel. Went back to the new
faithful, Caravan, and selected Dev Anand songs for only he could express how I
felt at that moment. Finally, the clock
stuck five and I got up to make myself a hot cup of black tea. As I was
sipping, the phone began to ring…..surprise…surprise..
Yes Appi…sure I am coming…no
no…don’t send your car…I will manage with an auto or else my two legs carry me
everywhere….no, I do not walk as fast I used to in college but there is enough
strength left even now…ok bye.. see you soon.
Wao…she is really expecting me! Should I pick up some flowers for her…or
some chocolate…naa…that will be too childish….maybe a small gift….a bottle of
wine….maybe a nice perfume….forget it. She appeared to be quite well to do and
don’t know who else will be at home…..Forget it. I have never given any girl or
woman any gift ever, so why change now.
I reached the Creek View Society a little before 6.30 p.m. but did not
want to go to her house too early. So I kept walking up and down the road
outside for some time and then walked into a small Udupi joint for a Hot Kappi. As soon as it turned 7 p.m.,
which was the appointed time, I walked out and ran up the four floors to reach
her flat where I saw the name plate, Mrs. A. Dave. I rang the bell. She opened
the door immediately….Welcome Guna…I am
so happy you could make it.
As I took my seat on the sofa, she went to the kitchen and I saw a house
that was kept spic and span…beautifully and tastefully decorated with paintings
and plants. On a side table was a picture of an army officer. I was watching it
carefully when she walked in.
Here, have some coconut water
first.
Arrey, Mallu ke liye narial pani….thanks
all the same.
That is Major Ashwin Dave. He was
in Economics in Hindu with us and joined
I never got married. Koi mila hi
nahin…
Liar…you were quite a character
in college and I am sure you’ve had your flings and swings. Don’t you tell me
you never found someone to your liking? Someone ditched you or what?
No…just happy the way I am.
Come, let us have dinner and then
we can chat later. I have cooked some special things for you….meen moili, appam
and mutton biriyani plus khubani ka meetha for dessert.
In no time I ate almost all she put on my plate and remarked…this must
be the best dinner I have had in ages….thanks so much for taking so much pain
and effort.
She then took out some old photo album and showed me photographs of
college days….our trip to Mussourie, at the college festival Mecca and the
farewell pictures with friends and teachers. She showed me one picture where
she was sitting with a friend whom I did not know and asked me
Do you know why this picture is
so special to me?
No…how should I know?
You see the bead necklace I am
wearing? You gave it to me on the farewell day. I still have it with me.
Me and a gift, that’s impossible.
I never gave any gift to anyone. You are, surely, making a big mistake.
No Guna. I know what I am saying.
Remember we had gone on the college trip in final year to Mussourie and one
evening we had all gone together to the Mall for shopping. I had bought a silk
scarf for myself and then I noticed this necklace which I liked very much. But I
did not have money to buy it. And then, when the farewell day came a few months
later and we were giving each other small tokens and cards, you handed me a box
and quickly went away before I could open it.
I wish I could run away again from her today….she kept smiling at me and
I was feeling so embarrassed. Other pictures and stories of batch mates kept us
distracted and we then talked for long. At around 10.30 p.m. I took leave,
promising to stay in touch.
I reached home, switched on the fan and lay on the bed without even
changing into my night clothes. I was smiling and started visualizing Aparajita
sitting on her bed in a meditative mood with the necklace of beads in her hands
and using it like a rosary…..Guna Guna Guna….
I pinched my left ear to return to my senses and then opened an old
diary to tick off one from the bucket list….Reigniting the Flame Within…
SS
