Somebody shouted from a
junction of a main road. It was a very harsh voice. I did not see the person. I
could only recognize the matured voice of a woman scolding someone offensively.
I was standing in veranda
staring the people walking in the street. I would see them from front to back.
All faces would be new. And whenever the street would be empty I would spit
over it.
"Why do you
frequently throw spittle in the yard, don't you abhor of this. Look you have
made these stains all over yard." These were my mothers' words. She used
to scold me this way when I was in the house. Sister used to support mother and
help her add more words in opposition to me. Father usually used to be in the
office, so he was unknown about my habit. I understand now, it was own yard and
own people scolding me. They loved me hence they scolded me. There was love
hidden in their scold. I used to get inside the room silently. Afterwards, I
again used to come out to throw spit, this time a bit outside at the corner of
the yard.
I was staying in rented
room for two years. My neighbors' brother was staying in the same room before.
Later my family sent me there to stay with him. He had helped me to find
college. He also made me aware of urban culture, rules of rent and discipline,
dos and don'ts. His college was over after one year and he shifted somewhere. I
started staying alone.
A girl is spotted in road
below. She might be of 12 years. She is thin so she seems to be tall. She was
wearing red kurtha filled with white spotted circles. Where was she
going bare foots. I gave attention to her with no reason. Immediately someone
shouted in harsh voice with offensive words. I was shocked to know she was the girls'
mother. Girl halted. Her long legs turned. She ran as if she was fawn. I again
spitted over road, this time I also spitted at the word told by the girls'
mother.
"Good
afternoon!" This was followed by the tapping sound of short heel in the
stairs. The girl who stays in upper flat usually starts her conversation this
way. I did not know where she was coming from. She seems to be very happy and
beautiful as well. We had an eye contact until she finished climbing the
stairs. I already had replied, "Yes, Good afternoon."
"Will you please help
me?" She spoke stepping and standing on the upper-most steps of the
stairs.
"Nothing that
serious, I will come afterwards." She was climbing stairs of second flat.
Her speed was constantly increased resulting the fall in intensity of voice. I
had gone home finishing my first years examination. When I returned back I saw
a new girl in the same house I had rented. First I thought she could be
relative of the house-lord. Later I saw her in same college I was studying
second year. Then I had dared to ask her.
"You too are
here?"
"Oh! Yes, since it is
nearer from room." Then only I knew that she had also taken a rented room.
"By the way, it's me ........." In this way I had introduced myself. She
also told me that she was Simran.
This was all we talked
that day. We were in different grades so our class times were different. We
also had different flat so we generally did not see each other. If we happen to
meet we would just wish each other depending upon that time of the day it is.
It was the middle of April.
Somebody knocked the door. It was holiday so I had woke up late. And I had
brought half liter of milk pouch from the shop I was supposed to go very day.
As soon as I had poured the milk and lit the stove for boiling it someone had
knocked the door. Who may it be? I had
guessed it could be the owner of the house. I had already paid the rent money
of April, so he could not be the owner knocking outside. I stepped towards the door
with curiosity.
I opened the door. She was
the same Simran standing smiling. She was looking as cute as ever. Her hair was
wet and water was leaking through it. But it wasn't that enough to make her
wet.
Good morning! She wished
me earlier as before.
Before I could reply, she
had raised the white plastic packet she was carrying and added, “It's my
birthday today!”
“Well, happy birthday! And
many many happy returns of the day." I wished her taking out two chocolate
labeled as strawberry flavored. Thank you, she had replied immediately.
"Bye, I also need to
distribute other". She had turned soon after.
"No, how can you go from
the door itself?" Come inside. I insisted someone for the first time.
I don’t know what made her
convinced. She was ready to get in. I opened the door and kept opening.
She came and sat in the
same chair I used to sit. It was the only chair I had. She had soon tuned the radio
to another station. While I was talking to her, I poured one each glass of
water and milk in a tea-pan to prepare a coffee.
I know I should not ask,
but I will ask you. I asked her lighting the second stove.
She laughed first.
"You are a cunning person. Well, I am seventeen and what about you?"
She sounded childish.
"I am seventeen and
half.” I don't know whether I flirted with her.
I put about seven coffee
beans in the cup and poured a hot mixture into it. Then I handed it to her. Again
I poured it for myself. She thanked me and kept the cup on the table near the
radio.
"Please have it, by
the way it's yours birthday treat." I told her smiling.
As soon as we had taken
the first sip of coffee, she made a face because the coffee was insipid. I had
forgotten to ask how much sugar she wanted, since we were busy talking. .
She had chucked. I soon
handed sugar's can and spoon in her hand. Rather she had asked me. "How
much spoon will you take?"
"Two." I replied
with regret. I should not have forgotten to ask her the sugar.
First she poured two spoon
sugar in my cup and then to her. Then she stirred my cup. I had just turned
back to get another spoon.
"Don't bring
it!" As soon as she had finished saying she already had stirred her cup
with the same spoon.
"But why ...." I haven't finished my question.
"I don’t care actually."
She replied.
I was speechless and kept
standing, staring at her.
She finished drinking
coffee faster than me. She stood up thanking me for the coffee once again. She
was ready to go. I wished her again in the door. I heard her heels tap knocking
door next to mine when I was shutting the door. When I came back to my room and
picked the coffee cup I had many unanswered questions.
--------------------
I had no idea why she was coming
to my room again. I still remember what had happened last time she had visited
my room. I rushed to my room. I was so busy during exam days I haven't cleaned
the floor. I soon ran a broom over it. I arranged the books scattered on the
table. I folded the blanket, arranged the bed-sheet. Corner which had a kitchen
was clean. I relaxed since the job was decreased. I opened the window and
lifted the curtain. I felt fresh air blowing inside. I never knew my room could
be this bright and refreshing. I felt overjoyed.
The door was knocked in the
same way as before. It was open. She had carried a laptop with her. She wanted
me to help her in making a college project report. I edited the project I had
submitted last year and gave it to her.
This time I did not repeat
the mistake asking her for sugar and served her a cup of coffee. I don't know
whether she remembered the previous incident, she laughed cranking once again.
This time she thanked me for two reasons. One for helping her making a project
and second was for my delicious 'art of making coffee' in her words.
Anyway, she looked
charming and happy as always. After she went back I kept thinking whether I
deserve the praise for 'art of coffee making.'
Half the roof was
separated for boarders. We had a facility of washing and drying clothes there.
In winter we use to utilize the spot for gathering and sitting under the sun.
Brother who used to stay with me used to study in the roof. But I used to find
pleasure in the room itself. Otherwise, I would stand in the veranda and stare at
strangers and spit over the road roughly.
I was fully free after my
exams were over. Otherwise I was busy following the same routine. After I
returned back from college, I used to climb on the roof and bring back dried
cloths. Generally, Simran would be seen there reading. Some day she used to be
busy using laptop. Sometime she used to ask me about the study matter. I would
teach her if I knew and would soon get down carrying the cloths.
I told her I was returning
home before few days. I don't myself know why I felt important to tell her.
Anyway I shared with her. Did she have to become distressed on my words? Or she
had to become happy and wish me luck for upcoming years? She did not express
how she felt. She told nothing regarding this. She only thanked me for helping
her.
"And listen!" I
halted in stairs and looked towards her. I was going down to my room.
"The insipid coffee!
….." She spoke loud; crackling.
Her sentence was not
complete. I interrupted her in middle.
"Haven't you still
forgotten it?" I spoke bold. And started stepping downward; holding my
laughter.
Some days later, my cousin
came to sit in the same room where I lived. I had already talked with the owner
that someone other would be staying there. She also gave me the money and
shopping list which I was asked to take home when I returned.
I remembered Simran when I
was about to go. I just wanted to say her goodbye. I was also willing to
introduce my cousin with her. But this did not happen. She was outdoors and her
room was locked. I instructed my cousin to meet her and got back home visiting
the supermarket.
It was the following day I
had arrived home. I was sleeping under a tree. My sister was frequently asking
how I felt at home again. I had nothing to answer than to remind her incidents
that used to happen when I used to be at home two years back.
"She is a girl who
resides in flat just above mine. But how did you know her?" I asked with
curiosity.
"Look at this, I
found in your shirts. It got wet and can't be understood now." She showed
me the sheet of paper which was hand written with blue ink. It seems to be
written in letter format. It was now smudged and was illegible. Only word that
could be understood was 'Simran' at the end.
"How can this be in
my shirt?" I was shocked myself.
"And didn't you ever understand
her?" She told hanging my shirt to dry.
"What was I supposed
to understand?" I asked her making my shirt inside out which was just hung
by sister, but she was already gone. I always dry my clothes inside out. One
day, when I was staying in the rent. And went to bring back my dried shirt, I
found it was hanged in proper order. I thought I was mistaken and I ignored it.
But now the shirt and insipid coffee is giving me signal of something else. I
once again looked at the wet shirt hanging in the rope. It has been ironed as
well.
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