It wasn’t as if he was afraid to tell her how much loved her. His fear was rejection. What if she said no? What if she would exclaim that he was always her best friend and nothing more? Too filmy, he thought, as he tried to dismiss the idea; certainly she would not say no. Not after all these years of knowing each other. She very well knew he loved her, but she wouldn’t accept it. Women, they can never say anything clearly! He would speak his heart out today for sure. He had come looking for an answer. She either loved him or she did not. He simply had to know the truth about her feelings. Maybe he was only her friend, but he didn’t care. At least he would live that knowledge than pursuing false hope. But would he be able to live if she said no? Who knows, he had spent a while pursuing the question to no use. He would know soon. She should be out anytime now.
But it was not her. He clearly saw someone walk out the door. He’d never seen her before. Unlike other young women of her age whose clothes kept getting shorter and shorter, she was in a blue salwaar kameez. She was walking towards him. As he kept looking, his eyes looked past her. Maybe she was behind her; maybe she would come out in a bit. She could be her relative; perhaps her sister. He’d never seen her before. She had two brothers and seven cousins, and he knew all of them by their name. Then how did he not know her? Maybe she never told him about her? It was not possible she couldn’t. Perhaps it was her friend he had never met. She had always about talked about her childhood friends to him. Before she moved to this small town, she was in a big city where she as she said many friends. It must be one of them he decided. But why was he so sure of that? Just because she was walking towards him? It could be someone else too – perhaps somebody she didn’t know either.
“Hi” she said, breaking his thought. He almost reacted as if someone sneaked up behind him and shouted in his ears. As he regained himself, he saw, she was next to him. And it was not her. He didn’t feel any compulsion to return comment. He was not in a mood for pleasantries either. And what if she saw him talking to this stranger on the street? He’d been sitting under the tree in front of her house since last night. He’d cycled in middle of the night well after everybody had slept to make himself comfortable under the tree. He would surprise her first thing in the morning she walked out he’d decided. He had spent the night wondering what to say to her, or rather what she would say to him. He knew what he had to say.
“Hi” she said again, disturbing his train of thought again. Why is she even bothering me? He wondered.
“Can I sit down with you?” she asked. He glanced at her, for the first time looking at her face deeply. Dark brown eyes, a streak of red in her hair and a face that immediately struck him as pleasant. It couldn’t hurt, he considered. She had not appeared yet, and he could certainly speak for a few minutes. Maybe in a few minutes the girl would simply get up and go. He was boring anyways, and she wouldn’t stand him he smiled to himself.
“Sure” he said, making space for her so she could rest her back by the trunk.
“So you are waiting for her to come down, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?!”, this had left him stunned. Did she know her? Maybe she was her friend after all. He was pleased with himself; he could make out her friends even without seeing them. He knew her that well.
“Yes, I am. So, is she ever going to come out of that house or not?” he said faking a little impatience. If needed be, he would’ve waited under the tree for years.
“I don’t know”
“I don’t know?”
“Well you know she’s not coming don’t you?”
“Of course she’s coming!” He’d told her last evening that he would meet her first thing tomorrow morning. She had come over her place to pick up some notes for the class next day. It was then he had told her that he had something important to tell her, and he would tell her next day at the first rays of sun. She didn’t take it literally of course.
Why not today? She’d asked, You always say you have something important to say, but you never do. So why should I believe you? He’d tried to reason that all the previous times he’d been joking, but tomorrow, tomorrow would be different. He’d promised her. Maybe that’s why she was not coming out; perhaps she was getting back at him. No wonder, she sent her friend out to meet him instead of herself. Clearly she had seen him, and now that he was finally there, it was her chance to get back. She would not hear him today. Ah, these women!
“No, she isn’t” she said, breaking his thought again. “She’s dead”
“What rubbish?” he asked raising his voice, clearly in anger. “Don’t ever make that kind of joke with me. Can you ask her to come out please?”, he said clearly irritated at this turn of event. Dead? Of course not – he’d met her just yesterday. Obviously, she had taken the joke too far by asking her friend to say such idiotic words. Or maybe her friend was an idiot too.
“She’s dead” she said again, “And you know it”
“No she isnt! Now just go in and call her out”
“She won’t come out. Not today, not tomorrow and she’s never come out of that house in the last 34 years Goddammit, you know it, don’t you!”
She’d lost her temper, he could clearly see that. But what was this woman even saying? Was she crazy?! 34 years? She was dead? What was she even speaking? She was a lunatic he decided; and it made him uneasy. You could never trust a lunatic like this one. He had to tread carefully.
“No she isn’t”, he said, this time more carefully. He didn’t want to create a scene either. After all he was sitting right outside her house.
“Yes she is. You don’t really remember it do you?” she said, this time more mellow.
“Remember what?”
“You don’t remember do you. She’s been dead since 34 years. Your town was attacked that night by a mob in retaliation. Her house was burnt down in the attack. She and her family were burnt alive.You don’t even remember what happened don’t you?”
“No” What was this mad woman saying anyways!
“Do you know where you are right now?” she asked looking at him with solemn eyes. Of course he knew. He was sitting right in front of her house. There had been riots in the city a couple of years back he knew; maybe she’d lost someone dear and gone mad?
“There is no house there, you know that don’t you? There is no tree here either. You are sitting in backyard looking at a building. Do you know what do they call this place? Its called a mental asylum. She died that night, the town died that night, I just wish you remembered it. You keep coming here in the backyard every morning and keep looking at that wall. Do you know how long you’ve been living here?”
He was not even paying attention. This woman was a lunatic, and she’d been clearly imagining a world of her own. There was no point. The longer he stayed under the tree, more she would blabber nonsense. Perhaps he should just come back tomorrow. After all, he had done this so many times; tell her he wanted to say something important and then back out. He could do it again. But this crazy woman was getting on his nerves. She’d understand him ditching her, yet again, no big deal.
“You’ve been here a long long time” she kept saying, but he wasn’t listening. He was already walking away “Don’t just keep walking away as you always do! Listen me out. She’s dead, and you’ve been here since then. You are not crazy! Everybody says you are crazy except me! Let me help you!”
But he was already on his cycle by then. He looked at his left and saw poster of Mughl-e-Azam on the wall. It was torn at several places, but still one could make out the name of the movie by that pose of Salim and Anarkali. What a perfect moment, he could’ve had his today, had it not been ruined by this crazy woman.
Crazy woman, she almost convinced me it was not 1960, he smirked at himself, as he rode away.
My first attempt at fiction in many many days. Please excuse the rough edges in my prose!