'You know, there is something else we have in common—the classical music thing. I learnt that you
hold a degree in playing the sitar,' I said.
'Yes. And you hold one in playing the tabla, right?'
'Indeed. I learnt to play it for four years. In fact, I was never interested, but my dad forced me to
…'
'Well, you know what? That's the only reason why I felt like contacting you.'
'I'm not sure I understand,' I said slowly.
'The hobby section in your profile said that you play the tabla. And your interest in classical music
was the only thing that differentiated you from the others and made me feel like talking to you,' she
clarified.
So that was it! A tabla makes a girl want to talk to a guy! It was impossible to understand girls, but
I felt like hugging my dad and thanking him for forcing me to learn the tabla.
'Even I got my degree after four years at Prayaag University. And we both are in the IT industry,'
she pointed out more things we had in common.
'Oh yes! You work with CSC Noida, if I am not wrong?' I asked, knowing that I wasn't wrong. And
how could I be, when her profile was in front of me?
'Yes. I work with CSC … Tell me something. My friends say that Infosys people are studious and
good rank-holders. Is that true?'
'Are you expecting me to say 'no' to that?'
She laughed.
That was my first ever candid talk with a girl I hadn't seen yet. On that call, we touched base on
various things: the latest movies we had seen, our best friends, her family, my family, our college days, music and other areas of interest.
'So is your family in Bhubaneswar too?'
'No, my native place is a very small town called Burla, near Sambalpur. Mom and dad live there.
My brother and I are in Bhubaneswar, and we both work with Infosys. We stay in a rented flat with
two other roommates, and visit our parents on alternate weekends. Burla is just a night's ride from
Bhubaneswar.'
We talked for nearly an hour. I could feel my cellphone burning my ear, and the cell's battery was
on its last legs. And even though I wanted to keep talking to her, I had to say, 'Listen! My battery is
going to give up soon. But I hope we are going to stay in touch.'
'Your battery?' she said, laughing.
'I mean, my mobile's.' I started laughing too.
'Just kidding. But I believe we'll talk again.' Then she added, suddenly, 'But before you hang up,
you have to say one good thing.'
One good thing? Now where on earth would I find one good thing to say? But I'd watched a movie
the day before and, thanking god, I repeated a line from it. 'Bismil ka sandesh hai ki kal Lahore jaane
wali gaadi hum Kakori pe lootenge, aur un paison se hathiyar kharidenge.'
Then, I took a deep breath, and waited … And she burst into a big laugh.
I still think it was a good line. But I don't know what made her laugh. Anyhow, I too joined in her
laughter, so that she would not think me stupid or lacking a sense of humor.
'OK! I'm hearing the final beeps from my cell. It was really nice talking to you, Khushi. But we
won't be able to talk more, though I want to.'
'Same here. I liked talking to you very much. See you.'
'Yeah, bye.'
'Instead of bye, you should say 'see you'. It's nicer. It means we'll interact again …' she said, and
touched my heart, somewhere. Her innocence and the candid way in which she talked to me had left its
mark on my mind.
'See you,' I said, before I hung up.
That night, lying on my bed, I went over the conversation again and again. And I wondered: Could I
have been more humorous, just to impress her further? Or was the call just perfect, the way it should
have been? And was she thinking about the conversation too, at that very moment, sitting somewhere
in her room.
I don't know why, but I felt like calling her up again and it was hard to curb that urge. But I had to
control it, because I did not want to mess things up, right in the beginning, by becoming a guy who
bothers her at 11.30 in the night. 'No,' I said to myself, loudly, switched off the light and jumped into
bed.
Alone in my room, I was smiling, talking to nobody and there was this different sort of feeling
within me. I slept, just so that the night would pass, and a new day would come when I could hear her
beautiful voice once again.
The next day, I waited for her call. Though we'd not decided that she was supposed to call me, still I
had this gut-feeling that she would. By 10, in the office I was getting restless. I wanted to hear her
voice but, at the same time, I wanted her to call me up.
Happy had given me this success funda in the matter of girls: Don't make them feel that you are
going crazy after them; just give some time and they will come to you.
At 11, I realized that Happy was a fool and I went ahead and SMSed her a 'good morning', even
though it was a little late for that. But I didn't receive any reply to my SMS and began wondering who
the real fool was …
And, that day, I was also uncertain. Should I listen to my heart or my brain? Both of them were
pointing in opposite directions. My brain was telling my ego, 'What does she think of herself?'
Whereas, my heart still wished to hear her voice.
Call it my weakness or my effort to curb my ego—a little later I did what my heart told me to do
and I dialed her number.
'Hey! Hi, how are you?' Khushi picked up the phone.
'When wishing you a good morning, the sender also expects a similar response. I am fine.'
'I was going to reply on the way to the office.'
'You mean you're still at home?'
'Yeah. Actually, we work in the afternoon shift as we have to be in sync with our UK-based clients.
Hey, my cab's outside,' she said rushing and saying 'bye' to her mom. I could hear the door being
closed and her 'hi' to her friends in the cab. After she got in, we resumed our talk.
'So what's up?' I asked her.
'Ami di was here this morning,' she said. I remembered her mentioning a couple of names during
our previous call, but I could hardly remember who was who among them.
'Ami di …?'I murmured, trying to recall the name.