Randzevous

Ankita had already finished her 1^st drink and was sitting tight  fidgeting with her tissue and fighting her random thoughts. May be she shouldn’t have reached Olypub so early. The rendezvous was at 6:00 pm and it was just 5:00 by her watch, which left her with an hour of time to be killed.  This made her nervous because no matter how hard she might tried, the thoughts  safely locked in her sub conscious seemed to just gush back to the stream of consciousness . She tried hard to concentrate on the restructuring of this heritage bar, on the crowd chilling there or on the old cashier who still sulks by the counter but with no success . A few years back, this was the only bar which permitted smoking inside the restaurant, but today Ankita could sense that people had to go out of the cozy doors for a fag. Unlike the good old days, the AC was pretty chilling. The smell of the Premium Eau di cologne mingled with the cigarettes and drinks created a charismatic aroma. Even the smell of the sizzling hot Ala que, lying in front of her couldn’t keep her off from traversing into the nomad land; to the land of innocence, to the land of friendship, to the land of love and her marriage! “No Ankita! You cannot ruin your day!”, she must have reiterated this statement to herself for at least 100 times since the day Nitin had called her a week back. After much contemplation she has decided on a red lipstick. Nitin loved her that way with a mild make-up and why wouldn’t he? Because all Nitin knew of Ankita was a no make-up look from those early days. So beautiful where those days! Nitin and Ankita were classmates and tuition-mates, in fact they were made for each other. She still vividly remembers that chilly December evening of Delhi when she first met Nitin’s uncle outside their college. What a man he was; with a clean shaved rectangular face slightly pointed chin, deep seductive eyes and an awesome proficiency with words. Ankita was swept off her feet in the very 1^st meet.

Jingle bell..jingle bell..the melodious sound of the phone broke her reverie. “Yes! Nitin. Oh! You would be at Oly by 5:30pm? Ok, I will there on time! Come on, Tr…. Come on, I will be on time” Hanging up the phone, she heaved a sigh of relief. She was about to say, “Trust me!” Trust! This is one thing which might never develop in this relationship again. Ankita somehow managed to take a bite on her one time favourite ala que. She contemplated that Nitin would be with her any moment and whether she should do some touch up? Instead she decided to go down and mingle among the smokers.

The winter in Kolkata was exceptionally cold this year. The moment she stepped out, the icy wind stuck her tensed face and her deceased heart. How could Ankita ever forget that smile on the face, she has never seen anyone as charming and enticing as him in her lifetime. Their first meeting was by chance but on contemplating, Ankita realizes that everything after that has gone as per his schedule. She had been a fool enough to convince her parents to send her to take Maths lesson from him. Ankita being poor with numbers, convincing her parents was a cake walk. She still worries when it comes to numbers but when it comes to men, none can beat her. She can woo a man in minute but what about her? Can anyone mesmerize her like he did? He was a young man in his 30s and lived alone. Often he used to say to Ankita that he had none except the niece, Nitin and Ankita was a mirage for the lonely middle aged man walking in the desserts.

How could she, a vulnerable teenager, not fall for his sugar coated words? How could she fathom the reality?  Even Nitin, her most analytical friend couldn’t see the unforeseen. She had lost all her sensibility and exposed herself to him like never before and never after. Her mind, soul and body: all were his. He could mould her the way none could. She could go to the extent of abandoning her parents, her friends; she could have crossed all boundaries and all adieu for nothing, but him.

“Hey! Ank!” someone shook her from the back, “Where are you? You still seem to be a day dreamer!” Even before Ankita could realize, Nitin gave her a sturdy hug. When they both finally looked at each other, they were awed in their own way. Nitin had the same face as his uncle, except the eyes which still bore the glittering innocence from childhood.

To Nitin, her careless friend looked breath strikingly beautiful. Her face lines, her smile, her eyes and the thin red lip lines; all look so perfect. Nitin could have spent the evening staring at her if Ankita wouldn’t have dragged him up stairs.

The two friends sat facing each other, lost in their thoughts. There was too much to be shared, but too few words to express their feelings. Nitin had often abhorred himself for ditching Ankita, when she needed her the most. After that fateful event outside his house, Nitin had never ever contacted Ankita. So much had happened in their lives since then. More than once had Nitin thought of calling his lost friend, but he could never gather courage, not until last week. Not until seeing the post on Ankita’s FB “Amchi Mumbai, I am coming soon, forever! J”

Their conversation took the normal course of direction. They spoke about their marriages, their success and failures, their new found friends… the chattering went on while the drinks remained untouched and the food got cold. Nitin stopped abruptly and took up his glass. Ankita put her eyes down as if sensing the forthcoming. While taking the sip, Nitin observed Ankita from the corner of his eyes. She was trying her utmost to rejuvenate the conversation. He could sense her emotions.

“Ank, I want to tell you something. I shouldn’t be bringing up this topic, but it needs to be spoken. I think he was never the man for you. The best has happened but in the awry manner. He had manipulated all of us. We were kids, but he was the matured one. Instead of entertaining your fantasies, he must have either ignored them or dealt with them rationally. I am sorry. I should have stopped you.” Nitin blurted out, Ankita gulped her drink and called for the waiter. She has been awaiting and dreading this inevitable moment.

For the 1^st time in the evening, a composed Ankita looked straight into Nitin’s eyes and in a stone cold voice said, “In the last few years, I have seasoned myself into detachment. Nothing in this world can bother me. Nothing in this world can break me. No man can touch my soul anymore. My body might be needing love, but my heart doesn’t have the strength for love. I might have men in my life bout no more a man, please!”

This was the end of their discussion.

Nitin wanted to shout recklessly. He wanted to shake Ankita frantically. He wanted to bring her friend back. He wanted her to love, to miss, to cry and to get perturbed with the small unnecessary things.