When first love paid a second visit... (Part 2)

Scroll further down to read Part 1 in case you haven't. Here's how part 2 goes:

As my bike neared her home, I saw a congregation of people gathered outside. I accosted a man who was a part of the crowd, to find out what had happened. “The family’s son passed away in an accident last night”, he said in a matter-of-fact tone. My mouth flew open, perhaps for the lack of emotions, or perhaps for the profusion of them, and it stayed that way for the next few minutes. Here I was standing with my love package sealed in my backpack, being told that the person, for whom it was intended, was now grappling with the death of her brother. I mounted my bike, and left. I do not remember having sat and wept in a temple any other time and I do not remember praying harder in my life. I threw myself into the mercy of god, thinking that the so called supreme power would make everything normal by giving her the strength to cope with her loss and me the courage to swallow my feelings. And yes, both happened.

“Tanki, Tanki. Are you there?”, the sound broke my reverie. I somehow found enough words to put together a sentence and said, “Yes, where are you?”. “I’m at your city’s airport for a changeover flight to Chicago. Are you free today?”, said the Professor. Was I free today to meet the person who had hogged more share of my thoughts than any other girl on this planet, and other planets too, put together? “Yes, yes. I’ll be there in 15 minutes”. 15 minutes – the airport was almost another town away from my residence and no means of transport except a time machine could have got me there in anything less than an hour. “Cool, I’ll be waiting”, said she, and the off went the phone.

With the alacrity of a panther, I got out of my “Boss’s-boss-is-coming-to-visit-my-office” dress into my “I’m-trying-to-look-good-please-don’t-laugh” outfit. I locked the apartment, ran down the staircase from the 8^th floor while the lift was vacant and perfectly in order, grabbed a taxi and was on my way. I knew I was putting my career into jeopardy by missing office today but there was no other option. I had to do it. As the taxi passed through the busy thoroughfares and entered the sylvan freeway connecting the city to the airport, I was transported back into the pen-sieve of nostalgia.

I had tried to be the pillar of support for her after her brother’s demise but I soon realized that a pillar did not need another pillar to support it. Hardened by the loss, she had become a workaholic, slogging her way through the initial years of college. Studying in different colleges with disjoint holiday calendars, we hardly ever got a chance to meet. Calls went from being a weekly to a monthly to an annual birthday-only phenomenon. My feelings had subsided, or so it seemed. Part of the reason, a rather large part of it indeed, was Capri.

I had met Capri, who owed this diminutive to her Barbie like looks during the pre final year of my college. She had recently got out of a painful relationship, and the other half of that relationship was all determined to make her pay for it. We soon became good friends and she started telling me about the woes of her love life. Strange as the fields of Latin and love are for me, I could only proffer my consolation and weird jokes to cheer her up. I’ve still not understood why girls prefer guys with the lamest sense of humor, and perhaps never will. As I unknowingly untangled the mess of her love life, I knit another web around myself. And before I realized it, we were madly in what you call as “love” with each other.

I had never felt so strongly for anyone, not even for Professor, simply because my feelings had never been reciprocated. With Capri, I felt I had someone who was willing to give the relationship as much as I did, perhaps even more. As an old Chinese proverb goes – “You need only 2 things to be happy – something to live for and someone to die for”. I was the happiest person on the planet. We (to be true, only she) had made elaborate plans for our future lives – the honeymoon destination, the wedding dresses, the color of paint on the front wall of the second bedroom. Girls can be so endearing yet so annoying.

But in life, as in cricket, not everything goes according to plan.

(To be concluded in the next and last part...)