One mark.
One second. One word.
And my whole
world had come crashing down.
It was one
of the finest April evenings the city had seen. An unusually pleasant fog had
settled itself comfortably that gave everybody the rare treat of experiencing a
wintry evening in the last few days of spring. An exotic foliage had suddenly
sprung up all around…or perhaps I had just never noticed it before. There was a
slight nip in the air which seemed to gently kiss my flushed cheeks. The
weather had brought along an inherent dampness due to which my spectacles had
turned foggy. Everything was appearing blurred but I didn’t care…..I liked
it…..I liked this lack of clarity which seemed to be blocking out a world I
didn’t want to see….and how I truly wished I could block my mind that easily.
I couldn’t
read the paper that my fingers were clutching but I didn’t need to. The words
inked on it had been etched in my mind permanently. A single tear strolled down
my cheeks.......then another…..and yet another. I was finally beginning to
absorb the conversation that had occurred between the Dean and me earlier that
afternoon. After winning the Management Scholarship for two years in a row,
this was the first time I had lost…… lost by a criminally painful gap of one
mark…….lost by a such a fine difference in an otherwise amazing score……and lost
to one of my oldest contemporaries of all time…..Siddharth Kundra.
I had worked
extremely hard to achieve that coveted hattrick, the scholarship had even been
a necessity to a certain extent and amongst the several reasons I was providing
myself as to why that prize was so precious, a small voice in my heart was
whispering that it was not my hattrick but my pride that had been shattered. It
was painful enough that I had lost to a man I had never got along with, but
even more so when the Dean had told me that he had found Siddharth an
exceptionally unique personality.
As I had
acquired a respectable second place in the coveted examination merit list, I
had had the privilege of veto power in the committee and I could opt to either keep
the PR section exclusively to myself or delegate it to Siddharth and
consequently work under him. I heard the distant church bells chiming away signalling
that it was 6 pm. I realised slowly that I had been sitting on this bench for
more than four hours. Collecting myself together, I brushed off the treacherous
tears meandering down my cheeks and shoved my certificate into my bag. I had to
think fast. There was no way I was going to work under Siddharth and therefore
I had to inform him of my decision by today itself.
Siddharth
was one of the few people on the campus whose number did not feature on my
mobile which most painfully meant that I would have to meet him in person. I
didn’t even have the excuse of not knowing where he would be as I was aware
that he spent his Fridays in the cosy cafeteria just outside the campus. I
reluctantly started trudging along the neatly gravelled path. Being a woman of
many words, I had never imagined being in a situation where a simple
conversation could seem so dreadful. Wounded pride is an overwhelming emotion
and sometimes emotions tide over us so stormily that any amount of reasoning
fails to ebb the waves they create. My footsteps involuntarily slowed down as I
saw the familiar outline of the café.
As I opened
the heavy wood panelled door leading inside, I was hit by the most blaring
music that seemed to completely tear apart the silence that was residing
outside. There was a tantalisingly pulsating life within that tiny room. The
weekend being round the corner, most families had leisurely lounged in early to
enjoy a lazy dinner. The jazz band on the dais was contributing majorly to the
“happening” reputation of the café. A young group of hippies were entertaining
an entire section at the far corner while a fanatic football fan club was glued
right next to the colossal TV screen near the bar. Drinks were being offered on
the house because “It was fiiiiiinally Friday” and the owner was clearly
beginning to regret the offer. The electric liveliness within those four walls
was contagious though I was in no mood of being plagued by it.
I
searchingly zoomed my gaze across the lounge hoping to catch a glimpse of
Siddharth and I finally found him sitting at the end near the jazz band. As I
decided to approach him I suddenly came to a halt in my tracks. I realised that
he had come with his entire family to the café and there was obviously a
stupendous celebration going on as he was popping the bubbly of an extravagant
champagne bottle. I chided myself for not expecting this. I should have known
that Siddharth would naturally be celebrating his big night lavishly. A couple
that obviously looked like his parents were seated next to him. A lady and a
man, possibly some relations of his were also a part of the gathering and a
young woman was seated right next to Siddharth. She caught my attention
immediately as she was exceptionally beautiful. She closely resembled
Siddharth, and her face was exuding a resplendent radiance. She had a lovely
smile and though she was mingling with everyone, her attention was mostly
focussed on Siddharth who seemed to be entertaining the whole group with some
ridiculously funny joke. I didn’t move forward partly because I felt it would
be rude to intrude and majorly because I didn’t want to.
I tried to
catch Siddharth’s attention, when he looked in my direction. He appeared
slightly surprised to see me but immediately excused himself and walked towards
me. I inhaled deeply and tried to keep calm as the moment I had been dreading had
finally come.
“Kritika!!”
said Siddharth, approaching me as I made
no move to come forward.
“Hi” I said
formally and then managed to force out perhaps the most difficult sentence I
had ever strung together, “I….ummm….I wanted to congratulate you on winning the
scholarship” I said gracefully as I flashed a slightly contrite smile.
He
surprisingly returned my gesture most warmly. “Thank you so much .... congratulations
to you too….considering your amazing score, you almost won too” he said
smiling.
Perhaps it
was the warmth or his smile or simply the maturity with which he spoke, but I
suddenly felt more comfortable as I replied, “Thanks Siddharth” and continued
smiling ruefully, “But a winner is a winner……no matter what.”
He simply
smiled in reply while I tried to analyse how to tell him about my decision of
keeping the PR to myself. I decided that since he was being gracious enough to
speak so well, I should tell him in a slightly diplomatic fashion. To change
the topic temporarily I commented casually, “So your family seems to be really
happy”
Siddharth
started laughing and said “Oh they are!!...we all are!!”
“Of
course!...They must be so proud of you today” I said smiling genuinely this
time.
Siddharth
had been gazing at his table but on hearing my remark he immediately looked at
me. After a very slight pause he said, “Actually I haven’t told them yet….”
“You haven’t
told your family that you won?” I asked him incredulously
“No….” he
said shortly
Now
curiosity had got the better of me. Looking at him confusedly I asked him, “So
what are you all celebrating?”
Siddharth
seemed to be considering his reply. I looked at him questioningly. At last he
spoke quietly, “It’s a big day for my sister. She learnt how to write the
alphabet today.”
Whatever I was
expecting, it wasn’t this. I reflexively looked at the beautiful woman seated
at the table. She was almost Siddharth’s age….almost my age….her eyes were
shining as her mother patted her fondly.....I slowly noticed that her face had
a blissfully dreamy expression and that she wasn’t eating herself but was being
fed by her father. I slowly absorbed Siddharth’s words as he defiantly faced
me. He must have inferred that I didn’t know what to say so he continued, “We
were all looking forward to this day you know……and she has been working really
hard and…..”
“Your sister
is really beautiful” I said suddenly cutting him short. I realised how
difficult it must have been for him to talk about his sister to me.
He smiled at
me and said proudly, “Yes, she is a very pretty lady…..she is my twin sister
you know” and then continued, “So….you wished to talk about something in particular?”
“Yes” I said
steadily coming to the point. I suddenly felt completely calm as I commented,
“I just wanted to say that I would really like to work under you if you are
willing to handle the PR section.”
He seemed
extremely surprised as he responded, “Wow!!! I thought we were going to have an
argument on this topic in the near future!”
I laughed as
I replied, “Of course we are!! But arguments are even better when they become
discussions”
Siddharth’s
face broke into a huge smile as he replied, “Much as I hate to admit this, I
agree with you”
“So you
haven’t told your parents you aced the exam because your sister learnt the
alphabet today” I said. It was not an enquiry neither was it a taunt….it was
just a simple statement to which he replied simply.
“I did ace
my exam Kritika…..but she is the winner today” and grinning widely, he
continued, “and as you said……a winner is a winner…no matter what”
I remembered
the Dean’s words as I faced Siddharth. I then said something that I had never
dreamt I would and surprisingly I felt no reluctance in admitting it to him,
and to myself.
“You
deserved that scholarship Siddharth……because you won it while helping your
sister to prepare for an even bigger examination” I said simply as I prepared
to make a move.
He merely
smiled in reply and remarked, “That’s big of you Kritika.”
“Enjoy! And
my best wishes to your sister” I said smiling and made my way to the entrance.
As I reached the door, I turned back and looked at the family. The pretty girl
was again engaging her brother’s attention, the parents were laughing, a cake
was being cut, a toast was being dedicated, songs were being sung, and a smile
was playing on everybody’s lips.
Once
outside, I removed my frosty specs and cleaned them. Trudging down the lane again,
I enjoyed the summer breeze, I felt the colour rise up my cheeks, I smiled at
nothing in particular, and I was just so happy that it was fiiiiiinally Friday.
In life,
each one of us have reasons to be sad and reasons to be happy. It is just the
outlook we possess that decides the ratio. There are so many smiles being
flashed around us which hide an immense amount of sadness……because such
personalities are brave enough to look beyond their problems. Why should we
cling onto one weak reason for being sad when life is showering us with
countless reasons to be happy? Till today I had always regretted what I didn’t
have but most sadly, I had never been able to appreciate the magnitude of what
was already mine. I had forgotten that there were so many excuses for me to
enjoy a beautiful evening, forgotten to value the bonanza of comforts I had
been offered by life, and most crucially I had forgotten that at the end of the
day, the only way I could be happy was by deciding to.
Frosty spectacles
can only blur your vision, not your perspective.
Twenty
minutes ago, I thought my life had changed.
Twenty
minutes hence I think my attitude had changed.
-----------X-------------
Gifted-thats what you are
ReplyDeleteThanks Vignesh!!
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