Some more chocolate.

It's not like I had a crush on him or anything. I am just curious, that's all. He is such an unconventional sort of person that I wonder what goes through his head sometimes, what makes him "Krish", the way we all see him - outgoing, smart, popular, sloppy, reckless? What made all those mini-skirt clad, high-heeled girls throw themselves at him? Just a vague, almost academic interest on the aura that he exuded that lured in such a varied fan following, that's all.

I am a loner of sorts. So, I don't have the usual giggly, best-friend teasing me about why I take a more than normal interest in what he does. I like it that way. Left alone, I can be myself, no scrutinizing eyes analyzing every piece of cloth I wore, the way I walked, the guys I have a crush on, not that I have a crush on any guy. I have more dependable friends - my books. I make up for my lack of an active social life by devouring books - history, philosophy, fiction, I read them all. I spend Friday evenings slouching on my favourite barcalounger in our campus library, surrounded by at least six books. I usually sneak in a few candy bars and munch on them, although library rules say we are not allowed to get food inside. I think my parents didn't care much about me as long as I sent back straight A grades every semester. They are too involved in their own lives, my relatives, my sick old thatha, our maid servant Malliga and such other details. I call once in two weeks and the conversation usually does not exceed ten minutes.

"Vidya, do you need us to send you some more money? You can buy yourself a new dress...is your old cycle doing ok? Do you need a new one?"

"No ma, I have money left over from what you sent two months back. My cycle is ok."

"Oh...ok", an awkward pause as if my mother was trying really hard to say something meaningful to her only child, I kind of enjoy her discomfort, "We are doing ok here. Thatha had another bought of coughs, the doctor has prescribed a stronger dosage, he refuses to take the medicine, each day is a struggle..."

"Uh huh."

"Do you know Srilekha aunty?"

"No."

"She lives on 8th street...she has started Bhagawath Geeta classes, I am planning to join..."

"That's good."

"Umm...one second ma, Appa wants to talk to you", shuffling sounds and murmers, "Vidya, Vidya..."

"I can hear you dad."

"How are you? Your courses going well?"

"I sent you my grades two weeks back dad."

"Yes, yes, I saw them. Very good. Very good. So, did you celebrate with your friends?"

"I bought myself a new book as a gift."

"Very good. Which book? What did your friends say?"

"The world is flat."

"Oh...good. So...we will talk to you in a few weeks then?"

"Yes appa. Take care, bye."

He seems to hesitate, "...ok, bye Vidya. Don't work too hard, take care of your health."

"I will, bye."

So, our conversations pretty much follow the same routine. I am not sure when I stopped relating to my parents or when they moved into their circle of concerns leaving me outside. It just happened. I mean, it's not like they were bad parents or anything, they loved me and all, but we just didn't "get" each other. Which worked ok for me. I liked living by myself, I enjoyed a freedom that few teenagers possessed. So, that's me, Vidya Kannan, five feet four inches, shy, introverted and friendless. At least I think, that's how other students saw me. I don't feel the necessity to tell them otherwise. I have better things to do.

***

So, when Krish asks me if I could be his partner for that day's experiment, I am sort of happy at the opportunity to study someone totally different from me. I like to study people, their quirks and traits, the way they make each event a life-death occurrence, because I can never do that. I am too smart to consider one tiny event in my insignificant existence bigger than it actually is, a speck of dust in the sands of time. So, I am often amused at what people consider the current milestone or tragedy in their lives - "He proposed! He proposed! Oh, I am the happiest girl alive!", "He broke up with me, I could die!" - like I said before, curious.

Anyway, I have often watched Krish fare poorly in Chem lab, his partner often did the work for him. I have time to notice this because I often finish my experiment within the first fifteen minutes of class and since I have no one to talk to, I sit and watch people around me, especially Krish.

So, I agree.

"Gosh, thanks! I owe you one!", Krish, the charmer.

"Yes, you do. The crystals are on the side table. I'll set up the bunsen burner."

For a second, he seems taken aback, but quickly recovers, "I'll get them."

I work silently for the next five minutes. When I finish, I notice him standing next to me, holding the crystals.

"So, what can I do to help?"

"Would you like to do the experiment, I can start drawing up the table to calculate the results?" I deliberately ask him this question, wondering how he will squirm out of this one.

"Err...I am not really sure. You are the smart one, so will you please do the honor?"

He smiles, what I have heard other girls term, "an infectious smile". I nod back, more out of a pity-laced courtesy than anything else.

Ten more minutes pass and the experiment is almost complete. The Chem lab assistant passes by and nods his head approvingly at me. Krish doodles on his notebook and I know he looks up to watch me do the experiment every once in a while.

"You can take off if you want. I can submit the results for both of us."

"No, I want to stay." He doesn't offer more explanation and I wonder why. Usually he talks a lot and he has his circle of friends laughing at his quick wit or his funny narration of an incident. Today, though, he is strangely silent, like me. I wonder if I have that effect on people, is that why my parents speak to me as they do? In meaningful pauses than words?

I wrap up the experiment and fold my apron neatly and return it to its cupboard. I submit the lab report and come back to collect my things and he is still standing there. I look up to him - he towers over me by a full feet - and hold his glance. He has long lashes and dark eyes. I like looking into them.

"I...just wanted to say thanks. This is real nice of you."

"No problem."

"I know this sounds odd but I have a bit of a trouble with Chem 201 this sem. Do you think you will be able to tutor me after Chem lab for a few weeks? I need to atleast make a C, you know?" he laughs nervously.

I am amused. For a second, I wonder if he has anything in his mind other than Chemistry. I watch him notice my high ponytail, my non-descript sweatshirt and jeans, a small pearl earring that my mother had given me when I left home and loose strands of hair falling untidily all over my face. The moment passes and I see me as he is probably seeing me now - a geek, a loner, a weirdo? But I don't sense contempt in his eyes, so, I look at myself in them and nod a yes.

He is gone, soon surrounded by his normal entourage and I watch him with the same curiosity with which I have studied him before. But now, something is missing. Maybe the fact that he is not just a subject that I can study with indifference, but a human-being that I am supposed to interact with. I mull over the change.

***

"A 31, phone call! A 31!" I quickly finished brushing my teeth in the common washbasin and run downstairs almost running into a sleepy nighty-clad girl making her way towards the wash basin.

"Hello ma!" I speak breathlessly into the phone, my parents did not usually call me and definitely not at 7.30 in the morning. I already knew that I was going to hear bad news, I just didn't know how bad.

"Vidya, did we wake you up? Did you have your coffee? I told your father not to disturb you this early in the morning..." as usual a stream of unrelated questions that I listen to and wait for her to get to the main topic.

"Are you both ok?"

"Vidya, yes, your father and I are fine..." I heave a sigh of relief and fall back into my normal state of indifference.

"Thatha passed away this morning. He just asked for a glass of water and I went to the kitchen to get it...he was peaceful", the world of euphemisms that my mom lived in, I preferred reality.

"How is appa doing?"

"Oh, he is busy with the preparations for the ceremony. He has taken a few days off from work...I am cleaning the house, making preparations for the priests to come...", her voice seemed to break and I tried to think of what a responsible daughter would say at this point to console her mother.

"It'll be okay, mom. Keep yourself busy", even my few words of meaningless consolation seem to cheer her up.

"Yes, I should. Vidya, if you feel...not so good, take a day off today and get some rest."

"Okay ma, I got to go now. Take care."

"Bye Vidya."

I wonder if I should feel sad. I know I didn't, maybe I should. So, I try to think of my grandfather, anything at all that will, if not make me teary-eyed, will at least cause a lump in my throat, anything to make me feel. A hazy image of a proud, old man floats in my head, gray stripes of viboothi on a forehead already marked with tired lines, a distinct limp as he walked - he refused to use a walking stick till his last day, the few times he hugged me when I had gone home during summer vacation, the time he compared me to his own mother - he said she had brought up a family of ten even on her husband's irregular income and, even earlier than that, the times when we would all play dayakattai by drawing squares on the floor with a wet chalk - was there a time when we played together? How did I walk so far away from there?, the time he wrapped all my new school notebooks with brown wrappers and stuck labels neatly on them...

Images play one by one as if in slow motion, in my head and each one seems familiar to me and for a moment transports me back to a time that I could recall but could not go back to now, and still the tears did not come. So, I sit on the small parapet wall behind the Saraswati mandir on our campus, and watch the peacocks behind the wall. Sometimes, when it drizzles, they spread their feathers and dance, those moments are more real for me than my memories, the moments when rain falls on me gently and the peacocks dance not knowing that I was watching.

***

The next day, after my classes, I sit in front of the library - I am fifteen minutes early - and I wait for Krish. I fish out a Nestle fruit and nut and take a big bite. He runs towards the library as I just finish my chocolate. I watch him walk towards me.

"Hi Vidya", he smiles and I nod back.

"Ready to start? I thought we will start with some equations, something simple to begin with..."

"Sure, I am all yours." I look up sharply and relax when I see him open his notebook in all seriousness.

We cover the basics of equations and I started teaching him how to balance difficult equations. I started writing down some more complicated equarions when he stretches with a big yawn and says, "If I come early next time, will I also get some chocolate?"

"Instead, if you concentrate now, maybe you won't have to come early next time."

He doesn't say anything and pays his complete attention to me for the next fifteen minutes. Good students made me happy and I wonder if I should compliment him when he looks up from his notebook and asks, "Can I tell you something?"

I don't like roundabout questions and am about to tell him that. And then something in his eyes makes me stop once again. Something that I do not often find in other people's eyes when they look at me, his eyes study me not out of a superficial curiosity but out of genuine interest...or so it seems to me. I hesistate and say yes.

"I like you."

For once I don't have a retort. If he had asked me out for a cup of coffee or complimented me because I was smart, I would know exactly what to say, but what he had offerred was a sincere compliment and I on't know how to accept it gracefully...or gratefully, because they are so rare.

"Thanks", I say simply and mean it.

I watch him walk towards his dorm room and make a mental note to buy some extra chocolate.

***

"Vidya, could you help me out with this program?", Richa always sits at the terminal next to mine but this was the first time she has spoken to me. Almost every guy in our batch has a crush on her. I guess being a dancer and a looker makes for an irresistible combination.

She tosses her hair impatiently and continues, "The Towers of Hanoi problem, it's driving me crazy!"

"Does it compile?"

"Yes, I keep getting this null pointer exception when I run it..."

It takes me all of two minutes to figure out what the problem is and fix it. I walk her through the logic as I make changes.

"Wow! Thanks a bunch! When you explain it like that, it sounds real easy!" and she smiles at me.

Her smile reminds me of someone else's smile and I realize I am late for my tutoring session.

I say bye to Richa and rush to the library.

"Sorry, I am late..."

He points to the empty chocolate wrappers, "I would have saved you some but you were ten minutes late!"

I smile at him, I think for the first time, "I was at the computer lab, explaining a problem to Richa and lost track of time."

"Oh I didn't know you and Richa took the same classes."

"Uh huh."

"She always had trouble with Comp 206. I told her she could get any guy to tutor her or even take the exam for her, the problem was finding a smart guy!" and he laughs.

I like the fact that he is this informal with me, talking or at least pretending to be comfortable with me. Few people took the effort to do that. He leans against the pillar and runs his hand through his hair and I can see why girls fall for him.

"Are you both seeing each other?", I ask him even before I had made up my mind to ask him that question.

"Just friends. I mean, it's not like she is my girl friend or anything...you know?" my question seems to have made him uncomfortable and so I start with my Chemistry lessons.

After forty five minutes of equations, I tell him I had to leave.

“Oh, are you going to see Hum He Rahi Pyar Ke…I heard the SGA is screening it tonight!”

“No.”

“Just hanging out at the bazaar with friends then?” I know that’s where he hangs out regularly, outside Pappu milkshakes, with his gang of friends.

“No.”

“Do you have a date then?”

I look up at him, at the hint of concern that his eyes seemed to hold, at his hands dug deep into his pockets, at the way he leans towards me a little as he speaks and I have a sudden urge to hold his hand. I must have frowned at the thought, for, he says, “I am sorry, I don’t know what made me say that…”

I usually did what I wanted to do and I thought now should be no different. I don’t exactly hold his hand, but I touch him on the shoulder, “I am going to the temple. I go every Friday during aarthi time. I like to sit on the steps outside and listen to the aarthi.”

And then he asks what I expect, hope? that he would ask, “Can I come?”

“If you leave some chocolate for me the next time we meet.”

And we walk towards the temple, in a comfortable silence that I usually did not like to share with people.

I sit down on the steps of the temple, in a corner so as to not be in people’s way. From where we sit, we could see the parapet wall and the place where the peacocks danced, we could catch the top of clock tower of the main building on campus and in front of it rows of well maintained trees and gardens. The flowers have not come out yet but the trees and grass have turned green and expectant.

The aarthi starts at 7 PM sharp and I close my eyes for a moment, enjoying the pleasing mix of sounds, of the distant calls of the pigeons that sit on the temple gopuram, the chimes of the temple bells and the aarthi being sung. Moments like these seem to remove some of the emptiness that normally fills my life.

I open my eyes and smile at the world at large.

“You look so relaxed, I almost envy you now.”

“That’s good. People don’t usually find a lot that they can envy in me.”

“You are very different from the other girls…Richa and all. I mean, with them, I know what they want, what they like…what do you want Vidya? I can never tell, your eyes seem to hold so many secrets…”

And for once, I let my guard down and let me be myself with him, “I want to win the programming contest next week.”

“The campus wide one? Wow! That’s a tough one, Richa says some of the professors find the questions hard to solve!”

“I know but you asked me what I want and that’s what I want.”

“So, are you going to be a computer scientist then? Is that where you see yourself in a couple of years?”

“I don’t know Krishna. I have not thought that far ahead, for now, I like talking to you the way I am, sitting on these temple steps, I like watching the peacocks dance in the rain, behind that parapet wall”, I point it out to him, “When they do, it’s like my wishes just came true, but I don’t have that many wishes, as long as I have these moments, I am happy.“

For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything and then he kisses me on my cheek.

***

The next week, I am busy the whole time preparing for the competition; I email Krishna telling him that I won’t be able to tutor him this week. He emails a few minutes back and I read the email a bit too eagerly. He just says, “Sure, good luck for the competition!” and I am annoyed at myself for feeling disappointed. What did I expect? A declaration of love based on the one kiss that we exchanged? Maybe it was just a vague hope that it was special for him too…

I work towards the competition with a fierceness that I didn’t know I possessed. I spend all my free periods at the computer hall and look up only when I the clock strike a quarter to ten in the night, the girls dorms’ gates closed at ten every night.

The energy that I put into the preparations seems to make me overcome my normal dull state and I even speak cheerfully about it to my parents.

“Vidya, get a good night’s sleep before the competition on Friday. Friday morning, take your breakfast, read some magazines, relax and then go to the competition, don’t study till the last minute!”

“Mom, it’s not a theory exam to study for. We will be given programs to solve on the spot.”

“Yes, yes, prepare the programs well.” I sigh and tell mom I would call her Saturday morning.

The day before the competition, I thought I saw Krishna, I couldn’t make out since it was late evening, but I did see a girl walking beside him, I wondered if it was Krishna and Richa and let the thought pass. I couldn’t afford to get distracted now.

Friday arrives too soon for me. I don’t feel as confident as I normally feel before examinations. I did follow my mom’s advice though and had a good breakfast and then I cycle to the lab.

We have three programming assignments and the total duration of the contest is three hours. As soon as I settle down in front of the computer, I begin to relax. A familiar feeling of knowing what I am doing, courses through me and I solve the problems in two hours and fifteen minutes. By twelve thirty, I submit my programs online and get up to leave. And then I see Richa sitting on a terminal nearby and wonder what she was doing at the competition. I didn’t know she was participating.

I had cancelled my tutoring session today because I decided to take a break after a week’s grueling preparation. I went to the bazaar to Sagar coffee shop, my favorite hangout place at the bazaar. The uncle there knows me well and often makes pleasant small talk with me whenever I go there.

“Come beta, long time you haven’t come? Busy with exams?”

“Yes Amar uncle, just had one today. I will have a cup of coffee.”

“I know beta, one strong filter coffee coming up!”

I sit there with my coffee tumbler and look around the bazaar. The campus crowd arrives at nights and now the bazaar looks deserted. I like it better like this, when one has time to listen to the cycles of life in motion, the mixer running in Aparna Fine Cuisine (it is more like a run-down fast food place), Amar uncle’s wife shouting over the sound of the juicer, asking him if he got sugar from the market, the bleating of the goats that walk casually in the middle of the road (it’s more like a mud path) and the sounds of the late morning. Today, for some reason, the strong filter coffee smell reminds me of mom and I feel good missing home, something I don’t do often.

And then I see him sauntering out of Pappu’s, his hands hanging loosely around another boy. He doesn’t see me and I watched him, secretly glad that he is unaware of my eyes following him. I recognize the now familiar feeling within me – it’s no longer just curiosity, his kiss had made sure of that. It’s more like a yearning, a desire to be with him, to have his hands draped loosely around my shoulder instead of the other guy’s and to feel the gentle kiss that he had left behind on my cheek.

I want to talk to him but decide to wait till Saturday morning when the results would be posted on the bulletin board. I would share my good news with him then, at the temple steps, just like that day.

I don’t sleep well that night. I get up really early Saturday morning and will the day to move faster, I know the results wouldn’t be posted until noon.

At 11.30, I can’t wait any longer and I walk briskly towards the bulletin board. I don’t see any announcement that carries the logo of the Comp Sci department. I sit down on the floor, lean against the wall and wonder if I should go to his dorm to tell him about the results or if I should just send him an email, maybe I should call him instead…

The peon comes at 11.50 carrying a single sheet of paper, my heart skips a beat. I wait patiently until he left and then walk towards the board. I scan the notice, looking only for the words, “Vidya Kannan”. I don’t find it the first time and panick. By now, a few students have started trickling in, all of them talking about the competition. The second time, I see my name, in bold. I had won!

I linger back for sometime, as if wanting to feel the envy of the students who read my name on the notice. Just then Richa rushes in and looks at the bulletin board.
“Hey Richa, Vidya won this year! No big surprise huh?!”, they still speak as if I don’t exist but I don’t care. I had won.

Richa’s face falls and she makes a strange sound as if she were being strangled and runs out. I hesistate for a few moments and then run outside too, not sure what I was going to do when I caught up with her. Outside, she is nowhere to be seen.

So, I walk back to the cycle stand and start cycling back slowly, hoping Richa feels better, but mostly feeling happy for myself. Maybe I don’t make friends easily, maybe people think I am a geek, but unlike them, I know my passion, I know what I was meant to do in life.

And suddenly, all I want to do is to share this with Krishna. I decide to cycle to his dorm and tell him.

I don’t have to cycle the whole way. I find them standing under a tree and whispering. She is still crying and he is standing close to her and holding her by the shoulders. The wind carries a few of his words to me, “Don’t worry Richa…why bother about…stupid little competition…let me treat you at Pappus…my poor Richa.”

And then I can’t stay there any longer. One, because I no longer want to tell him I won the competition, two, I don’t want him to see me crying.

I come to the dorm and call my mom and blurt out the whole story to her, while crying. It is the first time I share something close to my heart, with her. And it feels good even though I don’t remember crying so much in my life.
***

After that day, I cancel all my tutoring sessions and avoid Krish as much as possible. He tries to talk to me a couple of times, but it is easy for me to fall back to being me and I cut him off. This time, I do not let his eyes deceive me into believing that I had any chance of being his friend, leave alone being his girl friend.

A few weeks later, there is just the dull ache in me to remind me of the time we spent sitting on the temple steps, of the way he pushed the hair that fell on his eyes, the way he had looked at me a few moments after kissing me.

I fall back into my routine of spending my life at the library. The only consolation is that I now look forward to talking to my parents every Saturday, tomorrow I would tell them about my dream company, every student is expected to know their dream company by their final year. I already know and I am sure they would be happy with my choice.

I almost forgot it is Friday today and on a whim, I decide to go to the temple. For the past few weeks, I have been avoiding even my temple visits lest he should show up there. I am scared by my tears the other day, by the effect he had on me, by the pain that rushed through me when I saw his hands on some other girl’s shoulders, by how vulnerable he made me feel…

Today feels like a new day and so, I walk towards my corner on the temple steps and sit down. I feel relaxed almost immediately and close my eyes for a small prayer. When I open my eyes, I realize my cheeks are wet with my tears and I realize how much I had missed the familiar rush of feelings that I now feel as he walks towards me.

We both sit silently for sometime.

“I am sorry”, he says.

“For?”

“Whatever it is, it is not worth what I went through the past few weeks. I am sorry.”

“I am sorry Richa didn’t win…although it was only a silly little competition…”, I try to laugh and fail.

“I am sorry too but she has to face these things in life. That sometimes we win and sometimes we don’t. To her it is just a silly little competition. I know it’s different for you, Vidya. But, I am not here to talk about Richa. In fact, I haven’t seen her since the day after the competition. I came here to talk about us.”

“But…what about Richa and you?”

“Remember Aftab? The lanky guy that I hang out with?” I vaguely remember the guy who had accompanied him to Pappus the other day and nod.

“She is seeing him now. She has been for quite some time. I told her I was interested in you long back. I wanted to tell you this when you asked me about her but I didn’t think it was important to you…”

He swallows hard and lowers his voice even further, “It is you that I want Vidya, with your quiet peace and your simple beauty. You make me feel…different, more alive, you make me think…and you make me say just what goes inside my head, to share everything here with you”, he points to his head, “Like now.”

“Oh.” And now I seem to have run out of things to say. And I don’t have to, because beyond the parapet wall, a peacock stands on one leg gracefully, spreading all its feathers…

I point towards the peacock. He holds my hand as we watch it dance. I hear the temple bells chime and lean my head against his shoulder, “Krish…”

“Umm?”

“I’ll get you some extra chocolate for our next tutoring session.”