LOVE STORY

                                   "AN EVENING AT THE CAFE" 

“Can I get anything more for you, Sir?”, interrupted the waiter.

I was awoken from my trance by his sudden intrusion. “No, thank you”, I replied politely. “Bring the bill, will you, please?” The waiter nodded and left hurriedly.

I glanced at my watch. Half past nine, the glowing digits showed. I smiled as I looked at it. It wasn’t just another watch, for it held with it, memories worth living for. It was the last gift from Sentina.

The glow still reminded me of her. Her eyes, so beautiful they were that I could stare at them for hours, bewitched by her charm, and listen to her soft rosy lips singing out the sermons of love. Her hair was long and so smooth, so thick, that I could hide myself under them as she would kiss me. She had a body, that, as an artist would describe, was perfect – not an inch to add, not an inch to remove anywhere. Yes, she was beautiful, very beautiful. Maybe the world would like to differ on that point. Not that it matters.

‘Mosses’ wasn’t imperfect just because the audience criticised it. It was perfect just the way Michelangelo had carved it out of a rock.

Sentina was my best friend, in school, and girlfriend after that. We had chosen to live our life together, forever, for our paths were intertwined. In spite of our differences, we had so much in common. Or maybe we just loved whatever the other did.

Respect… Appreciation… Understanding… important terms in a relationship, after all!

She was a news reporter at The India Times. I knew she was just perfect for the job. I hardly ever worried about her when she was in field. Oh! how much I loved to see her on the television. Better than any Munni or Sheila! Her sense of dressing was awesome. She could look gorgeous even in a simple tee and jeans! In my opinion, and that of her viewers, of course she was the best!

It was actually very funny how we first met. It was a bright sunny day, when the Sports teacher had declared that we all had to choose a sport of our choice and practice for the Annual Sports at school. Being more involved in studies and other co-curricular activities, I did have neither the time, nor the interest to indulge myself into sports like football or cricket.

Having played a few times with the boys in my locality, I knew very well that those games won’t be a very good choice for me. So, when I came to know about badminton, I chose it without any hesitation. As, fate would have it, she was chosen as my opponent or partner in the game. I had very little idea about the game myself, and even lesser about how well she would play it! I was just well prepared for all sorts of embarrassment. But as we began, there was hardly a shot she would throw at me! Either it went too far behind or would get caught in the nets. I was just tired, picking up the shuttle cock from here and there, while she would just laugh away every shot! Twenty minutes had passed and I was too tired to play any more. But how could I resign suddenly?

But I seemed to be quite in luck, when after a few more minutes, she came up to me with the cock in hand and whispered slowly to into my ears, “Hey! I don’t think I can run any more with that stupid racket in hand… Come on, let’s rest under the shade for a while…”

Though I was the one, actually running with the racket, looking like a stupid, but I just smiled and accompanied her. That was the moment of my crush!

Her voice still lingers in my ears.

And she talked away the rest of the period, till the bell rang for us to leave the grounds. I never thought she would have noticed me in class, but to my utter surprise, she could tell all the stupid questions I had ever answered in class. The best part was that once the English teacher had asked her to refer to my notes for a poetry lesson. And she just felt too awkward too approach me! Well, after that, I made it a point to help her with her notes, as she often bunked classes. And it gave me some time to spend with her too. She also said how much she loved to dance, and thought about making a career out of it. We chatted away the rest of the time. That was one of my best afternoons in school!

The Gods, wherever they are, can never let a happy man rest in peace or a depressed man be happy. Guess, my happy life was too much for them to bear that they sent in the catastrophe to ease things a bit. Even today when I think of that evening, I feel I am the one to blame for what happened.

It was the evening of November 26, 2008. I had to leave for some urgent work in Chennai. She was all alone at the Mumbai residence. She had begged to come along with me, but given the work environment, I insisted she should rather stay home and take a day off from work. In the evening, I had called her. We talked so much, she seemed a bit sad, but I couldn’t understand why. We talked about all those past times, the good times we had had together. She even brought up the matter of getting married soon. I thought the sudden loneliness was getting to her, so I had told her to visit some cafe, or see some friends.

When I returned from work that night and switched on the television, I was shocked to death to hear about the terrorist attacks on the Mumbai city. I wasted no time in calling Sentina up, but I couldn’t reach her phone. I had tried a few friends, but none could help. Horrified, I took the next flight back to Mumbai. That night, the situation was too tough to get any help, and I had spent the entire night beside the television set and my cellphone, ringing her every other minute. She was still missing.

I don’t remember when I had fallen asleep. The next morning, I had heard about the arrests made. I made my way to the local police station to file a missing FIR. As, I walked back through the streets, I could smell the horror and sorrow in the air. Everything seemed so dead. One evening had changed everything!

That evening I got a call from the police station. I was terrified, because I knew the bleak prospects of expecting a good news. I was prepared to face my worst fears. They had taken me to the morgue. My lips had turned white with fear. As the warden opened the drawer, I could see her face… Yes, it was unmistakable. She looked even more beautiful, with that calm sheath of serenity on face. Her lips were frozen to blue. I kept staring at her body. She was so full of life when I left. Now, she lay there – lifeless…

Had it not been for the warden, I too might have taken my last breath in there, such was the pain I felt shooting right through my heart to all parts of my body. I felt numb. Maybe I even had reached the transition between life and death. But God wouldn’t let me die then, would he? He had just taken away from me, the one thing I cared about the most. Death would have been too easy a thing for me then. But God wanted me to live with it, and die every moment of the rest of my life.

The warden was kind enough to offer me some tea, as he walked me outside the gates. He could see the pain right through my eyes. He had asked, “Who was she?”

“My wife…”, I had replied, as tears rolled down my eyes, and froze midway down the cheeks.

She wanted to be my wife. Yes, I had made her mine, if not in life, but, in death.

The residues of the coffee in my cup had almost dried by now. Some astrologers, I had heard could read fate by looking into someone’s empty cup. Sure they wouldn’t see Sentina in there!

The waiter returned with the bill. It has been a long time, an year, to be exact, since I came to this cafe after Sentina left. As I drew out my wallet to pay for the coffee and the snacks, I asked the boy, “Can I occupy this table for some more time? Its just that…”

The waiter interrupted, “Sure, Sir. You used to be one of our regular customers once. I know how things have changed now. I am sorry for your loss, Sir. You can sit here as long as you wish…”

With a smile I paid him off. “Keep the change”, I added.

However, with some hesitation, I stopped him to ask a question.

“Who is that lady on that table no. twenty-one? I think I have seen her before.”

He didn’t seem surprised at all. Instead, with a smile, he replied, “Sorry, but I haven’t. I’m sure this is her first time at our place…” Having said so, he left.

But I hadn’t just seen her before. The first time I had ever met her was at the railway station. I had been patiently waiting in the restroom, for a friend of mine, who was coming to the city for the first time. He was one of the oldest classmates of mine. Suddenly, a lady had appeared in the room, carrying something, bigger than a purse, but smaller than a bag, and a piece of paper in hand. From her looks, anyone could have guessed that the situation she was in, wasn’t very pleasant.

Her hair was spread all over her face. The wind couldn’t have blown any stronger, I thought. There were splashes of mud on the lower bottom of her jeans, yet she had clean pedicured feet, decorated with a bright reddish hue of nail polish, which suggested that she belonged from a well-to-do family, and was aware of personal beauty and hygiene. She was of moderate height. Her face was sweet and was comparatively smaller than those thick black-framed glasses she wore! I could spot a few drops of sweat on her forehead. Her tee-shirt quote was the most interesting part. ‘I ain’t Interesting’ , it read.

I looked around to see who she was headed towards. There was an old man sitting in the opposite corner of the room, a bunch of guys in the other, chatting away the whole time about some holiday trip they had been planning. The rest of the room was empty. Oh! she was headed straight towards me.

“Excuse me! Do you have a pen?”

I was startled by her question. It reminded me of Sentina’s voice. How could someone have a voice so similar to hers! I wondered. I reached for my pocket and found one and handed it out to her. She grabbed it and hurried to the neighbouring table and started writing on the piece of paper she had brought with her. It was a requisition form, I had figured it out by then.

It is not in my usual habit to carry a pen wherever I went. And I hadn’t carried one either, that day when I left home. I had purchased this special pen, with a torch a torch at the rear end, from a vendor, just a few minutes back, outside the station. Quite a coincidence for a pen, it seemed!

The lady had finished filling out the form just in time before my arrived. Muttering a few words of gratefulness as she returned my pen, she closed the door behind her and walked towards the booking room.

Tonight, I noticed her the moment I had entered the cafe. She was with another girl, a friend perhaps, or a colleague. The lady, however, didn’t seem old enough to be into some kind of job. I was utterly amazed by her beauty tonight. I never thought her hair could look so beautiful, given their unkempt condition the first time I had seen her at the railway restroom.

After Sentina left, I had made it a point to keep my distance from ladies. It was just that I seemed to see her in every other face! And it brought with it, all the memories and pain with it. It was intolerable. And I needed to keep myself from being crazy and be thrown into some asylum. From where I was sitting, I could see a side of her face. And this time I wondered, why I didn’t see Sentina in her face! She was just as beautiful as Sentina was.

She finished her food soon, and left with her friend. Outside, I could see through the glass panes, they parted ways as her friend hired an auto-rickshaw to her place. The lady then walked off.

I gathered myself up from the chair, grabbed my jacket and prepared to leave. The waiter threw a smile and bid me goodnight as I walked out of the door in the cold December night.

The eleventh hour had just begun.

As, I walked towards my home, which was in the same direction as the lady had left, I expected that I would see her again. It was for sure that she wouldn’t recognise me, even if I went and introduced myself to her, but if could spot her apartment anyway, someday I might know where to look for when I needed a pen!

The air was very cold, making it difficult to breathe. The alleys were nearly deserted, except for the vagabonds and dogs, who had nowhere else to go. The fog had just started to thicken, and the moonlight could easily carve out shapes from it. Everything was dead calm.

As, I approached the park that lay on my way home, I could see her. Yes, it was her. The same figure, the same gait, the same dress. I could see her clearly in the moonlight. I never knew she lived in my neighbourhood! But where was she headed to? No, she wasn’t going towards the apartments. Instead she crossed the lane and headed straight towards the park!

It was the eleventh time that I have crossed paths with her.

After the railway station, I had met her again at the grocery stores, dosa plaza, the medical stores, the tea stall near my office, the city library, the bus terminus, Dussehera grounds, the bookstore and the Church.

A different place once, every month. Every time, it seemed as if some sort of coincidence had brought us together. And every time, she seemed to have no memory of any past interactions! And every time, I kept staring as she closed the door behind her back.

But not today. I brought out my hands from inside my jacket pockets and waved out towards her, as I yelled, “Hey! there… Where are you going? Just stop… We gotta talk!…”

But she didn’t stop. Instead she picked up her pace. Determined to stop her this time, I too crossed the lane and ran towards her in the fog inside the park. She was not much far. I called out again.

But she seemed to drift farther away. The fog seemed to engulf her from my view. I ran, faster. Yet she was still ahead of me. Finally, I couldn’t resist any further. I called out, “Sentina!….”

The name seemed to pierce through the fog-laden trees. But it worked! She finally stopped. I could make out her shape in the fog. But what happened next was the least expected.

The lady turned back her face and looked straight towards me. Alas! it wasn’t the lady any more. It was Sentina! I was struck with both terror and joy. As, I approached her, I said, “There is no need for you to be afraid. I just need to talk to you. And I wasn’t following you. I stay in the next block…”

I don’t know if it was of any help. But she stood there anyway. I went close to her and asked to accompany me to the bench nearby. I did not dare to look again in her face, till we went to the bench.

The bench was wooden, so it wasn’t very cold. As I sat, I stared at her face again. No, I was mistaken! This was the very lady from the railway station… and the cafe! She wasn’t Sentina!

Now she spoke. “Who are you? Why did you call me Sentina?”

“I wanted to speak to you, and that’s the name which first came to my mind!”, I replied. “I am Prafulla. Have you heard the name before?”

“No, not that I can remember… I don’t know why I stopped at that name! And your voice… it sounded so familiar!”

This was just the beginning of what I feared the most.

“What is you name anyway? And what do you do? Your face resembles a very close friend of mine… So, I felt like talking to you…” I continued.

“Selena… I work as a freelancer at The Chopra’s…”.

Well that explained why I saw her near my office.

“My face”, she continued, “was badly damaged in some accident. I was found by my friend, lying near that cafe. She took me home and looked after me. After prolonged treatment I could get up on my feet. The doctors had to change my facial skin, she says… and I don’t remember how I looked like before…”

My heart felt heavy and my eyes were filled with tears. I drew out my wallet and handed it to her.

“This is how you looked…”, I said with a broken voice.

She took the wallet from my hand and threw at close look at the picture. After a few moments, she broke the silence. “Er… Who is she? She looks quite like me!”

“This is my girlfriend…”, I managed to squeeze out these words out of my throat. “This is you before the accident… Sentina… that’s what your name was…”, There was an excitement in my voice as I spoke.

There was a moment of silence. I could hear the cold wind brush past my jacket.

“My friend says, I have no memory of my past. All that I can remember, is the evening of the accident, when I was talking on the phone and the next moment, everything was gone! I just don’t understand what to believe!”,
” …frankly speaking, I don’t remember you, but something inside me tells me to believe you. The last time I saw you, at the Church, I don’t know why, but I felt like talking to you. But, I didn’t know what to say…” She took a deep breath.

I had been listening to her patiently. It was like the good old days again, listening to her, while she would pour her heart out to me.

“Do you love chocolate pies?”, I asked.

“Yeah!… I do… love them…”, she sounded excited, “…seems like you really know me”.

“I love your watch, by the way…”, she added.

Her words almost made me laugh. “It was a gift… from Sentina. She loved it too.”, I replied with a smile.

My watch suddenly beeped. It was midnight.

The air had gone colder. We had been staring at each other for some time. I suddenly reached out my arm and slowly grabbed hers. She had gone cold. She didn’t seem to resist.

“Prafulla…”, she said softly.

I knew just what to do. “Sentina…”, I said. “Come to my apartment tonight. You will she for yourself, who you are, Selena or Sentina. I’ll show you who you are…”

Having said so, I got up from the bench. She seemed to follow me like a doll! But she didn’t say anything.

I could see her almost shivering in the cold moonlight. I took off my jacket, and wrapped it around her. She felt comfortable. I was feeling hot with joy and excitement. I could even feel my ears turning red hot!

None of us opened our mouths until we reached home. As I unlocked the front door, she entered and walked straight inside towards the bedroom. I didn’t stop her. It was her home, after all!

I came to my bedroom, and found her standing by the dressing table, staring at our photo.

“Was this… us?”, she said, suddenly being aware of my presence.

“Yes, it is… Sentina”, I said. “the last Dussehera we had attended together…”

“Make yourself comfortable. There are your clothes in the wardrobe. Take your pick. The bathroom is on the…”

“… on the left towards the kitchen”, she said, stopping me midway. “I just feel like I was never gone!”

“Of course you know your way around your own house. And you never left! I have kept everything just the way you had left. It never let me feel your absence. And I could live my days hoping you were just around… somewhere…”, I added.

I went to the kitchen and made some coffee for us. I didn’t want her to catch cold and fall ill on the very first night! We both changed into warm clothes, and talked about the good old days over the cup of coffee. She was perfect… just the way I had known her.

After some hesitation, she came into bed with me. As, I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything that has happened lately, I couldn’t help but smile. I will never know the mystery of the girl I saw in the morgue… All I can hope is that Selena gets back her memory soon…

She had fallen asleep very soon, with her arm resting over my chest, just like good old days.

I was feeling sleepy too. I softly kissed her forehead and dimmed the night lamp. No one would ever know how much excited I was feeling.

I was going to sleep after so long, feeling happy and satisfied, after all!

__END__

                                                                                          SOURCE BY-PRASANTA DUTTA

PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM