• Published : 14 Mar, 2016
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I watched him intently as he walked towards the door. I knew that time was running out and someone dear was drifting away from me. I took a deep breath. The train had started rolling on the tracks and he had de-boarded along with my other friends who had come to bid me goodbye. I tried to catch their last glimpse through the dirty window pane but the mist in my own eyes blurred the scene. My hands and feet were numb and I felt like my blood pressure had dropped. I did not want my co-passengers to witness my plight. I requested the coach attendant to give me a blanket and sheets and slipped below them to depart on a journey of my own.

It was a year ago that I had moved to Bangalore, the IT city, as a software professional after completing my studies and working a bit in my hometown Chandigarh.

“What’s the point of moving to another city when you can find a job here?” my parents had questioned.

Hailing from a Punjabi family, I understood their anxiety about sending their unmarried daughter off to another city all by herself to work.

“This will be my last chance to be by myself before you get me married off!” I retorted.

I was 28 then and they were frantically looking for a “suitable groom” for me. To avoid all the drama I wanted to move to another place and chill-out for some time before getting entangled in a new relationship. Being the “traditional-modern” parents they had finally agreed to the move but we mutually understood that it was not going to be a long-term arrangement.

After arriving in Bangalore, a vehicle from my new office had come to pick me up to take me to the accommodation provided by the company. It was a cosy furnished apartment and I felt at home as soon as I arrived. The driver asked me to freshen up so that he could take me to the office. Soon I was at my new workplace. The vibe was very positive as I was meeting a set of young and interesting people including him. He was a tall, dark young man with deep-set eyes and shy demeanour. At 22, he was interning with the company while also preparing for higher education. At lunch time we all ate together and laughed and joked with our elderly boss.

‘Thank God!’ I thought to myself, ‘this seems to be a very positive space and soon I will be good friends with all of my new colleagues’.

And as the days passed by, we indeed became a merry company. Nisha was a lively, bubbly girl who loved being the centre of attention among her friends, Surya was an immensely talented young man who kept the cheer flowing with his jokes, Debi was a tad serious but a dedicated worker and sincere friend and Blue as he was called in the office was the most interesting person around. Always loud and seeking attention, the day was never complete without a tattle-tale from him since he was up-to-date with all the information about which girl in the office was dating whom and was more than happy to share this knowledge with others.

But he was different. Behaving much above his years it was hard to elicit a smile or a greeting from him. While all the others chirped away with energy, he would sit silently at the lunch table observing everyone with his deep-set eyes. He wouldn’t indulge in any gossip or name-calling and often ignored Blue’s boisterous conversations about how Ms X was sleeping with Mr Y.

‘Wow I haven’t ever seen a young man like him!’ I said to myself, often amazed at his calm, detached temperament. He hardly spoke but his eyes communicated. He would mostly be at his desk immersed in work, scarcely looking up from his laptop and would decline invitations to join us for coffee at the vending machine placed at the terrace of the office where Blue would blow clouds of smoke from his cigarette and vent out his frustration with the superiors in the office. We all would hush-up if we found another colleague approaching the vending machine.

Sometimes I felt frustrated at being a part of these “bitching at coffee” sessions but I hardly had an alternative to escape from them as these were my only friends at my new workplace. Although I sensed that he looked at me intensely sometimes, he never really broke the ice for us to become friends. His shy and reclusive nature prevented me from making any advances of friendship as well.

We were called for a meeting by our boss one day and he was sitting opposite me at the conference table. I was busy taking notes in my diary and when I looked up his deep-set gaze was fixed on my face. I was embarrassed and noticing my embarrassment he immediately shifted his eyes in another direction. ‘It must have been my mistake,’ I thought. He must have been blankly staring in my direction thinking about something else. I dismissed the moment, scarcely realising that something had changed within me. Every day as I entered the office my eyes would look around to catch a glimpse of him. I would feel the blood rushing to my face as soon as I saw him. Embarrassed I would look away pretending that I had not seen him. ‘Oh God!’ I thought to myself. What the hell am I doing? Why am I behaving like a love-struck teenager? I am past the age for all this foolishness and I should behave like a matured elder in this situation.’

Having suffered heartbreak once in my life, I had resolved that I would never let any man be close enough to me to be able to hurt me again. But all rationality evaded me as soon as I looked into those deep-set eyes. I began to hate myself for it. I was crumbling for a younger man. All my beliefs at my own resistance were being challenged by him and I think he sensed what was going on or so I believed.

I was scared of letting my secret out and became over-cautious during my interactions with everybody at the lunch table often avoiding eye-contact with him in particular. My pretence at the lack of his existence bore fruit and one evening as we sat through a film-screening at the office, he came and sat next to me. My face was immediately flushed but I composed myself as we continued to watch the movie. After a while there was a funny scene in the movie and as I had gotten more comfortable with his presence next to me, I burst out laughing. He looked at me for a while, probably amazed at my loudness. It was a comedy movie and he didn’t laugh aloud at any scene but slowly chuckled away. The evening had become a very special one for me since he sat with me throughout the movie. It was an ecstatic feeling that I cherished for a few days.

Days passed by and we kept stealing secret glances at each other. Nothing was ever said but an unsaid bond had clearly developed between the two of us. We went out for meals in a group with our friends. Yet when we were together it seemed that time had stopped and the others had faded away into the background as we revelled in each other’s company. The others seemed equally oblivious of our secret joy of togetherness. He would make small casual conversations at such occasions and watched with interest while I gorged my food away. I was a foodie and a plump Punjabi. Sometimes I sensed that he gave me disapproving looks at what he perceived as unhealthy eating on my part. I would ignore those looks but felt very amused since it showed that he cared. One day he bought a new bike and brought sweets for all of us to celebrate. In my excitement and also to tease him I started to pick a few pieces from the box. He immediately whisked the box away from me saying, “Enough! Stop misbehaving!”

The deep-set eyes had made a deep impression on my mind and I found myself thinking of them ever-so-often. ‘Not good,’ I said to myself, ‘not good at all. What’s the point of all this lunacy, what’s the future of this?’

There were gaps of age, religion, community and outlook between us that we would probably never be able to bridge. The fact that neither of us wanted to be the first to express anything in words was also not helping the situation. Perhaps we were not able to fully articulate our feelings for each other. Perhaps we were not able to come to terms with the fact that a bond had developed despite a significant age gap. We weren’t able to name the bond or perhaps it was best left unnamed. It was a bond of joy at seeing each other and being around each other. What name could one give to it?

A year had passed by and my anxious parents had already shortlisted a potential life partner for me. They had met him and his family and found everything satisfactory. They asked me to put in my papers and return home to meet him and his family. I myself wanted a closure to the suspense in my life. I knew that I wanted to “settle-down” with a life-partner and the sooner that happened the better it would be for me. I handed in my resignation and started packing my bags for home. The news spread like wildfire in the office. Later that evening there was another film screening in the office. Once again he came and sat next to me and looked at me.

“I heard that you are leaving. Is that true?” he asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “I have resigned today!”

“Well! This is a great loss for this office,” he said. 

“My parents have shortlisted a guy for me and I’ll probably get married to him soon,” I blurted.

I had said it, clearly and deliberately. It was my last frantic effort to get him to speak about his feelings for me or was I giving a sense of finality to my own feelings.

“Oh, congratulations! That is very good news indeed,” he stuttered. “I am very happy for you,” he added clearly and deliberately.

The train had speeded up and I was swaying to and fro on my berth. Each passing kilometre was taking me away from those deep-set eyes and the moments spent with them. Soon they would all fade away in the history of my life. Soon they would blur away as distant memories. I was heading towards my new life with a sensation that something incredible had touched my life and soul. Those deep-set eyes which had said to me a thousand things, more than words ever could. I knew that in the future when I’ll catch my breath from my multiple roles as a wife, a daughter, a daughter-in-law, a professional and later as a mother, sometimes I will steal some moments from the humdrum of my life, close my eyes and remember those deep-set eyes and a smile will play on my lips as a remembrance of the moments gone by.

 

About the Author

Kanchan Gandhi

Member Since: 30 Jan, 2016

I am an academic based in India. I teach courses in Social Sciences at top ranking Universities in the country. Apart from writing, I am passionate about music and dance....

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