the Thinker

Her mother eyed her suspiciously; she tried not to look at her. She continued to look in another direction . Of course, she knew what her mother was trying to indicate through her narrowed eyebrows.

Opposite to her, Sandeep was going on laughing freely with Geeta. Along with Geeta, there were two more women surrounding him, listening to his jokes and laughing boisterously.

“Anjali, what’s going on? Why isn’t Sandeep with you?” her mother whispered to her furtively. Upon receiving no answer, she decided to try her usual stabbing tone.

“It almost looks as if Sandeep is wedded to her, and not to you,” her mother said, thinking that this time her daughter would shed some light on her marital affairs, about which she always chooses to remain perennially silent.

Anjali shot back a piercing glance to her mother, without speaking a word. Her mother slightly intimidated, and half apologetic at having asked her daughter such a question, refrained from asking another question.

Six years back her parents were most insistent for this match.

“You won’t find another match like this, he has done his MBA from IIM, Bangalore. Right now he works in one the most reputed firms there. I heard Mr. Joshi is inviting for dinner tomorrow,” her mother kept repeating the details about his bio-data and job profile to her so many times, that she almost felt like pouring hot oil into her ears and damaging her ear-drums.

“Yes, Joshi has two young girls at his home, both are far better looking than you, what if he ends up marrying one of them?” said her father equally persistent.

“Looks, is it all men care for?” Thought Anjali. She knew the answer. “No, not all of them.” She looked out of the window at looked down at the lane where he was standing with her yesterday.

It was a gloomy day and the sky was pregnant with dark clouds, ready to pour all over again.

“It rained pretty heavily last night, didn’t it?” he asked her.

“Yes, it did. I guess it is going to rain again. If the rain continues for a few more days it would be a problem,” she had replied to him with a worried expression.

As they were walking through the street, the cool breeze soothed their skin. The road was still wet due to last night’s rain. The air was filled with a pleasing and rich smell of the earth, wet with fresh showers.

“What’s the problem?” he asked her, looking concerned.

“Come on Shekhar, tomorrow I have an interview, if I get drenched like this, those people would not even consider hiring me!” she replied, visibly irritated. He chuckled. She felt even more irritated; generally he looked very lovable when he smiled, but right now it appeared as if he was smiling and telling her, that she was a lovable idiot.

“What’s so funny, you seem to like the idea of me not getting a job?” she sounded annoyed.

“No, no, I wasn’t laughing on you, but what makes you think they shall throw you out?” he asked, still smiling in his usual pleasing manner.

“It seems you think all this is a joke, let me assure it is not so, I am not too great looking or something, and when I get drenched, I look like a ghost,” she said in a disturbed tone.

“No, you don’t,” he replied calmly.

“Of course, I do,” she repeated.

“No, you don’t, you can never look like a ghost? Anyone there shall like you the moment they see you and speak to you; no matter whatever state you are in,” he said earnestly. She looked up to his eyes. She had always liked those sincere pair of eyes he had, with that congenial touch in them.

“What makes you think that,” she asked.

He did not reply back, but simply smiled. She had thought about him the entire night that day, while it rained outside. Within her body, she could feel a strange mix of anticipation and joy.

“Did he indeed mean what he said?” she kept thinking. Shekhar and she had lived in the same colony. She had met him through a common friend. Anjali was not the kind who would befriend men so easily.

Her parents had taken every care that she always sticks to their conservative Hindu upbringing, one that was based on regimented strictures for men and women in the family.

However, Anjali had chosen to be a rebel. Where her cousins decided to end their educational careers with a mere B.A , Anjali had a additional degree of chattered accountancy, along with the ones her cousins already had.

“That’s it! You do not need any more degrees, it is already difficult to get a match for you in our caste,” her mother bombarded out of frustration the other day. To her utter dismay, her daughter declared that she was planning to go for a job interview.

Her mother had looked at her as if she had murdered someone. Nobody spoke to her for nearly a week at home. The day her appointment letter arrived, a silent mourning was observed at home.

Earlier they were not speaking to her. Now they stopped looking at her.

“Where should I go, what should I do?” she felt like breaking her head against the wall. Suddenly the phone rang.

“He.. Hello?” She asked, scared that it was one of her relatives ready with their stinging comments. She knew they were purely jealous, but she could not tolerate their words all the time.

“Hi dear, why do you sound so scared? Do I sound like a mafia?” a voice answered on the other end.

Her eyes brimmed up with tears of joy, it was Shekhar.

“Hello? Hey what happened? I am not the mafia, seriously! I just called to congratulate dear. You got the job, right?” he asked.

She felt so elated and grateful. Someone was happy about her job. Someone was congratulating her. Minutes rolled by as they spoke. It seemed that her tears would never stop; only this time they were tears of happiness.

Shekhar had a great sense of humour. She held her tummy tight, it was aching, and she had laughed so much. She had never developed this amount of liking for anybody. But, she practically liked everything about him.

“But, does he think the same about me? Should I ask him?” She was confused and every time she met him, a constant tussle would ensue between her doubts and desires. Her puritanical upbringing, though could not gain complete hold over her, yet it could not eradicate the kind of hesitations and constraints she felt within herself at times.

Sometimes she felt that it would be ideal that he proposes to her. But soon she realized that things have to be initiated, by her. If earlier her parents were merely hinting at the match from Bangalore, now they were hounding her to succumb.

Every night she could feel strange convulsions in her mind, fits of tension and some kind of an unknown fear. Some remote part within herself told her, that she should hurry.

Her fears were confirmed, when she came back home from office one afternoon and her mother introduced her to a bunch of guests who were seated in the drawing room. Among them was a young guy; they called him Sandeep. He was an MBA from IIM, Bangalore.

That night she kept trying Shekhar’s phone again and again. It kept ringing, and with every ring her anxiety increased. Her parents would never understand, her younger sister was a bigger concern for them, as her father was fast approaching retirement. They would not settle this time without getting her married, and she won’t be able to stop them.

“Anjali? Anjali? What happened?”Anjali woke up with a jerk and looked. A pair of spectacled eyes looked down at her.

“Yes, I guess I just…,” she started to speak.

“Oh! Okay, come we will go back home,” said Sandeep, dispassionately. As they were driving back home, Sandeep spoke about all kinds of things, about his superiors’ remarks about him in the office, most of which were complimentary; about plans in his office to sent one of its employees on a foreign tour, which might be him; and last but not the least, about his colleague’s wife, who was looking very pretty and presentable, the other day in the boss’s party.

To be contd…

Too good Amrita... :) And nice suspense. Well hope we get to know what happened to Shekhar in the meanwhile. And did Anjali speak to Shekhar about her feelings, or did she keep quite?
Well i guess i have asked u a lot of questions.
Story is too good. Good work :)  

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hi Arathi,haha, i am glad u liked the theme so far,and asked so many questions, more is to follow so keep track.  

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Hey Amrita, my first visit to your blog!
And already waiting for the next post here ....
Good blog :)  

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thanks for droping by snehal! i am working on the next half of the story..should be up soon  

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good story, awesome, waiting to see what happens next  

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Damn Neat! .. Came thru your comment on my blog and had to read this. Nice suspense.
I am not much of a story writer, but I think the story stands on its own even now! Will wait for your next post on this though!!  

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Hi murali, thanks for dropping by, glad u liked it, the real part is yet to come...i am working on it.

Hi sriram, welcome to my blog...all i can say is wait for the next post.  

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hello Amrita!
Very good story... And I love the way you develop it... That diving into old memories from the present being gives the whole narration a lot of intensity and supports perfectly the intimate existential struggle we'll be witnessing... I'll be waiting for the second part :)
Great job.
Please don't stop!  

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HI Gonsings! thanks for your remarks but i wonder whether my story is all that good, i am trying to reach a conclusion for the story, a sound one and this time..no i won't reveal further, coz i want u guys to have ur own ideas about the remaining half.

Reflex, haha! u said u won't leave any comment but u left one saying that "you won't comment!"  

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hey amrita, really waiting to know whats gonna happen next...
rather, want to know what had happened before  

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Hi arathi, i know u really want to know what happened, pl have patience. patience is a virtue!  

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The real part is yet to come..good.. I do hope that contains info as to why Shekar dint pick up the phone tat night

I'm waiting.......  

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Wow Amrita!! This is damn neat work..I like the way you have employed dialogues..Nice.:)
I get feelings that I know these people, Oh well, am I imagining it or..?  

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hi optimist, the mystery would soon be revealed. So just hold on.

hi anu, nice to get such compliments f u..no u r not imagining things...ur guess might be right to an extent,

Like many others i would tell u the same thing, avinash - wait for the rest. The mystery would be over soon.thanks for coming.  

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serendipity, i suppose.. don't exactly remember how i came across ur blog..

well, loved this story.. waiting for the "to be contd.. " :)  

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Hi ganesh, welcome to my blog...no i donot have any writers in my family...thanks for the compliment but ido not expect all that fame for these stories...those are definitely greater people, venkitu? are u related to narayanan venkitu by any chance?

hi rangakrishnan...welcome to my blog...i will put up the next half soon.

hi virumandi...welcome to u too! glad to hear u liked the story.  

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Hi gangadhar, welcome to my blog!  

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