Subodh -Part 3

Time Shift. 8 months into my first job as a HR Specialist…something I was already bored of. Bored enough to wonder how people can work in the same routine for ages and ages. I lived from weekend to weekend and hated the Mondays. On one such Monday morning I walked into office with a particularly bad mood – I was sleepy beyond comprehension. I decided to give my mails one quick look and then go for coffee- it seemed impossible to work in my current state.

A couple of CV’s for some open positions – sent by a recruiting agency that worked for us. A mail from the MD about the dress code. Another one from the Quality Head about some award that they had won. 2-3 filled in appraisal forms from HODs. Nothing extraordinary. I did the required action on all the mails except the ones that had CVs – they would take time as I figure out where to fit them in…

I walked into the coffee room- it was buzzing with “How was your weekend” and “I saw this movie” and “I went to dinner and shopping”. I sat listening (rather sleeping with eyes open even as coffee made its way in my blood stream). The phone rings. It’s the $%^&$ consultant-Abhay with “Madam, did you have a look at the CV’s I sent over the weekend”. I say no and ask him to call me back in 10 minutes. He agrees and continues “You must particularly see the CV of Mayank Sharma before anyone – I think he is the perfect fit for the senior Analog design position. Plus he is more than willing to relocate to Delhi-since his family is in Chandigarh………” He went on and on. So much so that I was forced to get up and get back to my seat. The enthusiasm was infectious- it did wake up. Mayank Sharma did look ok. I gave a yes for him. We continued discussing other positions as I ideally moved over from one CV to another. Randomly scrolling with unseeing eyes – phone cradled between the shoulder and ear, coffee in left hand and the mouse in the other. Until…

Until I was forced to look. Something caught the attention of my unseeing eyes on one of the CVs. I scrolled up. It was the name. Subodh Tripathi. I looked again. Rubbed my eyes and looked yet again. My ears were no longer hearing what Abhay was talking. Rather I feel that he is creating some kind of noise which is unable to make me concentrate on the CV. I feel irritated. But then control myself and tell him “Hey listen give me 10 minutes, my manager is calling me. I shall call you back. Bye.” Bang down the phone even before he can say a word.

Awake now (thanks to the CV and not to the coffee) I quickly look. Not from the top but the bottom. Bottom because some corner of my mind says that he can be any “Subodh Tripathi” – there can be thousands of them (as my search on Orkut had revealed a couple of days ago. Bottom because the bottom had his past- that I knew. His school. That was all I knew…

The CV didn’t mention his school. I move up with bated breath. Home town: Delhi. I breathe once. Working with Siemens. I didn’t breathe – wasn’t he supposed to be a doctor, asks my heart. The mind replies “But then, weren’t you supposed to be a journalist?” He has been working since last one year-post B.tech. I calculate quickly. Yes, if he passed out in 1999 then, it must be him. Breathe again…and this goes on and on.

In 5 minutes I call back Abhay. Before he can utter a word I say “Quick, I want the contact details of Subodh Tripathi”. The consultant is obviously not very keen “He hasn’t much of an experience- just one year. I sent him across since he applied and we can consider him if none of the other candidates are found suitable. Have you seen the CV of…?” I cut him short “Abhay, please, I am in a bit of hurry. Need it urgently. I will explain you the whole thing later”. The tactic worked and within a minute I had the number. The number to Subodh Tripathi. The number maybe to the door that linked my past to my future. To all those dreams that had been put in cold storage on that fateful night of his birthday 6 years ago.

I dial the number. My hands are cold but the mind is decided. I shall not let this Subodh, who so ever he is until I am sure he is the one. To compose myself I count the rings.5 and it’s about to disconnect when a girl picks up “Hello??” “A girl? Who is she?” asks my mind. Another “Hello?” and I can sense the impatience. “Hello, can I speak to Mr. Subodh Tripathi, please?” I say in my best HR-tone. “May I know who is on line?” she asks. I am tempted to say that I am his friend but then say “This is with regards to a position he applied for in our company”. That satisfies her and I hear her screaming “Bhaiya, bhaiya call for you from some company” Silence. After 13 seconds I hear a guy on the line “Hello, Subodh here”. I try to judge if it’s his voice…but it has been so long…

“I am calling from Cognizant Systems and I guess you applied for a position with us. We found your CV a fitment and I thought it would be a good idea to have a 5 minute chat before I forward it to the technical manager of the team that has the open position…” He cuts me short “Hey I am keen for that position but can you call me say like tomorrow? I am busy today with some personal work.” Oh no…wait till tomorrow? No ways. I had enough of this wait in 6 years. I quickly measure the pros and cons and then say “Ok, no problems. But just one question for today...from which college did you do your B.tech?” I ask despite the fact that its mentioned in his CV. He replies “DCE- Delhi College of Engineering” And the final question that will change my life forever. An irrelevant question but then the most important one for me. I feel like participants on “Kaun banega Cororepati” must be feeling before the last question. This despite the fact that I am the one asking the question. With bated breath I ask “Which year did you do your XIIth and from which school?” And wait. Close my eyes and count the seconds. Tick tick one. Tick tick two. Tick… “1999.FAPS, Delhi”, he replies. My heart sinks. But the next moment I am smiling. Obviously FAPS is Frank Anthony Public School. To be sure I confirm “You mean Frank Anthony?” “Right” he says. “Thank you Subodh, I shall call you back tomorrow. Bye and have a nice day”. I beam. “Bye, Take care”, he replies. Click and the phone goes dead in my hand. I want to scream out loud. Right there and then. But then I don’t. Instead I focus all that happy energy on my work and in waiting for the day to be over so that the next may dawn and I finally disclose my identity.

The next day I call him again. He is much more relaxed and chatty. Just like old days. I listen to him talking about his work experience – even all those things that I haven’t asked him. Suddenly as if driven by some external force (even as my mind is wondering as to how I should break the news to him) I hear myself speaking “Subodh, l want to tell you something. 6 years ago when you were in Class XIIth you attended the MACFAIR International in City Montessori, Lucknow. You did – didn’t you?” I say all in one breath. He is silent for a while wondering where this conversation is going and then answers in affirmative. “Well”, I continue “Do you remember someone; anyone from there?” He answers cautious “Yes there were a lot of people- but then how does that bother you?” Then a bit polite “Were you there as well?” I reply “Yes you were and as far as I remember, you promised to stay in touch. Forever. But looks like you forgot your promise...”I didn’t have to say anymore. “Nayantra…is that you? What a surprise!! How have you been? And where are you? I just can’t believe this...It has been so long…” I revert “Yes it has been long and I have managed to find you…as for all those questions and all the catching up that needs to be done…lets meet up”. “Oh sure, anytime…can we meet today evening? I am usually back from work at 6PM and can pick you up” he sounds genuinely interested. “Hmmm…let’s see I might not be able to make it today but this weekend for sure…”. “Okiez. Saturday lunch with me. I shall call you in the evening”, I can almost hear him smiling over the phone…but then so am I.

Over the next 3-4 days we speak a couple of times over the phone. But it’s more about the present rather than the past. Somewhere by an unwritten code we leave the discussions of the past for the lunch hour. We find that we stay at around 5kms distance from each other, that we shop in the same markets and that our office buses take the same route. It is as if laid out all planned- we might have already bumped into each other; already, by chance- without recognizing. He is much the same- the same caring attitude, the same spirit to include everyone in that spirit to party, the same chattiness. But then there are other elements that weren’t there- disdain, aggressiveness and “who-gives-it-a-damn” attitude that’s common to almost all the Delhites.

Saturday comes, finally. I breathe a sigh of relief after the gruelling week at work. But the sigh has a new note as well…that of happiness and excitement. We decide to meet in front of 3C’s vala Mc Donald’s in Lajpat Nagar at sharp 1 PM. I reach at 1:07PM. Call him. He is caught in the traffic and will be there in another 3 minutes. Impatience makes it impossible for me to stand still. I walk around to cool myself up. At 1:12 my phone beeps. Its him. “Yes? Are you here?” I ask. “Yeah, I am in the red Wagon R in front of the Mc D. Number is DL-2345. Come quickly otherwise I will be challaned.” I look around quickly. Sure enough a red Wagon R is parked a few meters ahead. I walk to it. Check the number. Knock the window. He rolls it down and says Hi. I smile and sit. Fasten the seat belt and then we are moving. Not a word for the next few moments. He seems to be busy manovering the car on the busy market road. I try to look busy with “sightseeing” – as if seeing the market for the very first time.

Then when we speak it’s at the same time. The ice is broken. I am asking “Where are we heading to?” and he is saying “You haven’t changed at all in all those years.” I say “Thank you” and he says “I remember that you liked Chinese when we met at Lucknow, so let’s go for some authentic Chinese food…we are heading to the Bercos Garden, Noida”. I am impressed. At the toll tax booth he asks me if I have some change. I do. As I hand over it to him, I look at him for the first time. Study him. He hasn’t grown any taller or more handsome but with his branded jeans-tshirt-goggles he looks much like any other software engineer. He catches me studying him and says, “You do look gorgeous”. I smile and quickly get back to my sightseeing.

Lunch, finally. The food is nice and so is the ambience. We are talking. First I tell my side of the story and then he tells how he had misplaced my address leaving him with no means to communicate. How the despair had made him move from one girl to another and now nothing satiated him. How the failure to qualify for medical entrance had broken him (read: got him addicted to cigarettes). How he had a lot of money but a meaningless life. I listen, first out of pity, then slight anger and then utter boredom. “THIS WAS NOT THE GUY I HAD SAID GOODBYE TO 6 YEARS AGO” screamed my heart and mind in unison. Yet I say nothing, thinking that maybe he has really been hurt and maybe listening will cleanse him of the pain making the Subodh I knew emerge out. Optimistic. Believer of magic. Desperate. Call me whatever you want.

4 hours later we are driving back. The conversation has come to a standstill since we realise that there is nothing common between us. To be polite, I ask if he still loves reading and basketball. He says “Grow up…adults don’t talk about hobbies…I hate this kind of superficial conversation”. I am hurt now. Hurt enough not to utter a word. He doesn’t care. Drops me at my place. Says good bye and drives off. So much for the 6 years of distances. 6 years when I didn’t look at a guy, because I thought he must be waiting for me. 6 years spent in an imaginary fairy tale world. I was back to ground zero. I realise that it has been a worthless wait. Everything was over. Or did something ever exist between us in the first place??

A few days later he calls again. He wants me to join him for an office party where he can take a friend along. I refuse saying I have other things to attend to. Another call after a couple of days. I don’t reply. This hide and seek continues for 2-3 months. Each time I wonder about how strange life can be. How emotions can do a somersault. Once upon a time I had loved him intensely (with all the intensity of first love of a teenager) and today? I didn’t even consider him worth talking to. On his birthday he invited me for dinner. I tried to refuse again but this time he was adamant. I had to concede.

Over the dinner, he was polite and it almost seemed to me that the magic had worked – restoring back the old Subodh. Maybe, just maybe something must have been bothering him that day. I find myself talking again and there are no uncomfortable pauses. Towards the end he proposes me. I am surprised…because right now I feel that I hardly know him. 6 months ago when I hadn’t met him I could have easily said yes…but not now. He seemed to me a stranger. I tell him I need time. That is enough to rub off all the magic. I see an instant change in his behaviour-the aggressiveness, the sarcasm, the disdain is back. It left with no doubt as to what my answer would be today, tomorrow. Forever.

In the next two years we speak over the phone a couple of times, meet each other even a lesser number of times. It’s more out of memories and the desire to drag the past into the present than out of any love or other considerations. It hurts every time he makes an effort to win me over. I make a genuine effort to get to know him better but all of it is of no avail. After a while we just leave things to their own fate and continue with our respective lives…

The story should have ended here. But it did not. Story abhi baaki hai mera dost. :P