The Meeting

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 IMA soon after college. As soon as he was commissioned, we got married and we had a child. Ashwin was called in to join the IPKF and was martyred in a mine explosion. Our daughter is now a fine lady and is happily married at Bangalore. I came to Mumbai to take care of my in-laws and also took to teaching. My innings at the school is now over and I teach children in the neighbouring slum all five days a week. Now with my in-laws also gone, I live alone and shuttle between Mumbai and Bangalore. I am quite enjoying this life. What about you and your family?

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