24 December 2009
(Another Christmas Eve)
HE: Sitting across the same teak table that smelled so new just a year ago. It still smelled of the forest, not akin really, just old.
Another Christmas eve at Tarash's. And a completely new one altogether.
She was there, right there before my eyes, yet I needed to blink and make myself believe she really was.
She was going through their newest photo album. A dark purple book with a bluish tinge (like the colour of hurt) that had pictures of Baby, Tarash and Dina's newborn girl. I was just fiddling with my cell phone, pretending to attend an important business issue.
He had his arm around her and their fingers caressed the breadth of the photo album together. Last year, that arm was mine and Baby was inside Dina's belly. The excitement was something else last time. It was excitement for the last time.
Wait. She smiled. Wow! Last year that smile was mine.
She caught me looking at her. 'Look away', I told myself. Look away, I couldn't.
'Dude! Do you realize, it feels like WHAM wrote that song for you." Tarash whispered in my ears. His sweet little trivia didn't matter, didn't help, didn't change a single little thing.
The doorbell rang, Niha came in. I think I was waiting for her. Her blonde ringlets brushed against her steady collar bones. She was so gorgeous but why wasn't she looking it then.
(Born to german hippies who still preferred Mcleodganj for their abode, Niha lived and worked as a public relations executive in New Delhi. She spoke and abused fluently in hindi while she also made the lead of Haf Daugs, an amateur rock band. Niha got me a lot of attention and envy. She was so perfect, Niha, my girlfriend.)
She pressed her lips against my cheek bones. I put aside my cell phone and smiled.
No she did not look.
'Hi! Kite how've you been? Hey Shivie!' She turned to them.
Hi, there was no room for that hi last year. There was no Niha, no Shivie last year.
(Shivie was Kite's Collegue. The young talented editor of their paper. He was just a mention during the evening drives, a joke while we had dinner, an incident over the phone call, her boyfriend this Christmas eve. He sat there, right across the table, right across the tip of that natural crack running down the spine of Tarash and Dina's teak dinning table.)
Dinner was served, presents opened, good wine drowned, songs were sung and I looked at her. Her fingers brushed off the bits of hair like Christmas tree leaves that rested on his navy pull over. I looked at her. She noticed.
'Look away' I thought. Look away I couldn't.
She was Kite, wonderful Kite, vivacious Kite, KT for many, little Kittie for me and then she was Kite, just Kite, this Christmas eve. She had the same fragrance but I didn't know it anymore. The same girl, not mine anymore. Enough.
I looked at the giant grandfather clock resting around the corner. It was late. Very late.
'Time to go', I told myself.
'Coming?' I asked, looking at Niha. She was distracted from her play with Baby. She paused and came over to me. She smiled comfortingly as her slender arm slipped right through mine.
'Bye', Everyone said. And then another 'bye' followed alone. There was a familiar ring in that word. This one I knew. I turned around to look.
'Look away', I said to myself.
'Bye. Merry Christmas.' Look away I did.
