As I got down from the bus, I ran to my friend Kelly. Kelly is my survival mate here. We meet, tolerate this place together, and then retreat to our rooms. This is our daily routine. We finish our morning classes and grab lunch from the canteen. Our classes are adjacent; she's majoring in Architecture, while I'm in Fine Arts. Her studies are more technical and math-intensive. I've hated math since I was a kid, so I'm relieved not to be in her shoes.
This morning, I had a live study session. After waving to Kelly, I hurried to our respective classes. I entered my classroom, huffing and puffing, and took my usual favourite spot on the right-hand side. Soon, my favourite teacher, Mrs. Sehgal, walked in.
She's the finest teacher in the world. Her perspectives always amaze me. An independent, strong woman with a very feminine aura, she truly inspires me and makes college bearable. Mrs. Sehgal is always impeccably dressed, with a touch of grace and softness in every outfit. Her hair is often in a messy state, yet it looks so elegant. She's a specimen of art herself.
She looked at all of us with our enthusiastic faces, eager for the new subject in our live study session. Grinning, she said, "Hello everyone, just so you're not surprised, today's study honors our cultural dances." With a flourish, she unveiled a pair of ghunghroo and a set of gajra. The sight of these traditional dance accessories immediately captured our attention.
I looked at those beautiful pairs of ghunghroo and felt a rush of emotions. I was utterly shocked. My mind went back to the last time I danced on stage. It was Teachers' Day, and I remember every detail vividly.
I wore this beautiful green and black silk saree that shimmered under the lights. It was during my high school days back home in Mumbai. Oh yes, I did my schooling at National Public School in Mumbai. I wasn't a big fan of that school, to be honest, but the school loved and respected me, especially for my dancing. I danced Kathak with my partner, Sarika. We were known as the dancers of our school, always representing it in various events.
I am an extrovert, always have been, but my nerves are always on edge before a performance. My heart races and my hands tremble with nervousness. Once I start dancing, I slowly get accustomed to it and continue gracefully. But that particular time, I was trembling badly. I was on the left-hand wing of the backstage with him, the person who always knew how to calm my stormy nerves.
I took one step forward, looked at the thousands of audience members eagerly waiting for a stunning performance. The room was packed, and I took three steps back, overwhelmed by the thought of performing in front of such a large crowd. I looked at him, sitting on a small chair, his presence a calming force. He gave me his soft, reassuring gaze. From his pocket, he slipped out a fresh Gajra. We had this little ritual where he would tie it around my tight bun before every performance. He carefully tied it around my hair, fastening it with pins, his hands steady and gentle.
He turned me around, flicked my chin up, and said, "Never did my eyes lay upon a more fascinating beauty."
"Nazar na lag jaye meri chudail ko",It was a gesture to ward off all forms of evil, a small protective charm that had always been a part of our pre-performance routine.
I laughed and turned red at that moment. I looked up to him and said,"
See there are so many people on the stage, I haven't even practiced the steps properly. We had so less time….," I started to tap my feet out of anxiety.
He said," Shush, for once, Just make sure you don't trip on your sari and fall!"
He started to adjust the pleats of my sari.
He looked up, his soft lips parting into a smile, and said, "I love you, you can do it." His eyes glazed slightly with emotion, and his smile was filled with warmth and encouragement.
In that very moment, all my nerves calmed. It was as if the muddy water in my mind had settled, bringing clarity and peace. I felt a surge of inner confidence and the belief that I could achieve anything in the world. He was there, backstage, while thousands of lights beckoned just one step ahead of me. His presence was my anchor, giving me the strength to step onto that stage and deliver the best performance of my entire dance career. It felt as if he was holding my hand, guiding me forward.
Once the dance was over and the applause thundered through the hall, I ran to him backstage and melted into his arms.
I could hear his heartbeat. My ears on his chest. I could feel the beats rising, the adrenaline rushing. I said," I love you", with a cheeky smile and I snugged my face into his chest.
He holds me even more firmly. My ear being just on him. He said," I knooow."
I could hear his voice, vibrating inside his chest, into my ears. It was so peaceful to hear him through his chest.
As soon as the last vibration hits, Boom, I snap back to reality. In that same art court, with twenty other students and Mrs. Sehgal standing.
"Asif, are you in the class?", said Mrs Sehgal, looking rather worried for my face was pale. I gasped, not knowing why or how I felt. I had a tear streaming down my left eye.
I said, "Can you please excuse me for this class?", locked all my stuffs and ran to the restroom.
I locked all my stuff and ran to the restroom. Looking into the mirror in front of me, I was overwhelmed with confusion and a flood of emotions. I didn't know how to deal with them, so I burst into tears. Why was I reminiscing about someone who doesn't exist in my world anymore? I collected myself and wiped away the tears. Off to the cafeteria, where I met Kelly and Akasa. I took my usual lunch—a cheese sandwich and juice. My hands were trembling, and Kelly noticed from the side of her eye.
She said, "Are you again having your chapters?"
I wasn't surprised because it wasn't the first time she had recognized the regular pattern of these episodes.
She added, "I think you should visit Mrs. Tyagi. It's been long since you started having them."
Kelly reads me like no one else. I chuckled and said, "Well, it's not needed. I have so much to do before finals month and..." She interrupted, "Well, THEY CAN WAIT!" She continued in a soft tone," But dear, your condition may worsen if things continue like this. You cannot be dreaming about him all your life, can you?"
She wasn't lying. These repeated dreams were becoming my reality. Each day, they felt more real, and their intensity grew with each chapter, to the point where they were affecting my physical being. They reminded me of a time when I was vulnerable, a time she hadn't seen. I believed that if I didn't need help during the worst of it, why would I need it now, after a whole year? I tried to remain unbothered, convincing myself that I should be unfazed by the situation and focus on my studies.
As I muttered these thoughts to myself, I suddenly spaced out. The thoughts that had rushed through my head like a river suddenly halted, like a lake in a haunted movie. My brain was overtaken by the fragrance of a peculiar and distinct perfume. My heart began to pound. I knew this smell. It was the scent of someone I knew. My heart, my body, my whole physical self, and my soul recognized this smell. It was his perfume. My breathing stopped for a moment. My hands started to shake with the thought. How could he be here? Isn't he supposed to be in Columbia?
The flood of memories and emotions washed over me again, more intensely than before. I felt a mix of fear, excitement, and confusion. Was it really him, or was my mind playing tricks on me? I needed to find out, but the fear of confronting my past paralyzed me. I stood there, lost in the midst of the cafeteria, trying to steady my trembling hands and racing heart, unsure of what to do next.