Caesura

Caesura

“And when you ask me,
To spend a lifetime with you,
A caesura, is all that I am left with,
To give you.”


He was confident, suave, stable. She was unsure, unsure of everything.

Aaditya and Shamita had met at a Diwali party. As Aaditya was filling his plate with a couple of items of every type, Shamita’s plate was relatively uncluttered, with just a couple of chapattis and panneer bhurta.
She walked behind him in the queue for the buffet and watched him crowd his plate for his starving stomach. She thought of this and laughed looking in the direction of his plate.

Aaditya Bose at once understood. He looked at the five-foot tall petite dame and smiled, “I haven’t eaten for a year you see?” He saw her eyes- beautifully carved almond shaped deep brown eyes. “Looks like it” she retorted with a smile.

“So with whom have you come?” Aaditya asked, helping himself with the dal.

“Dad…he forced me to come here and now I’m without company. What about you?”

Aditya shook his head, “Same story”

The evening sky a mix of violet, red and orange. The cool October breeze made for a pleasant party evening. Below they could see Bombay city, in full bloom, lights shining, lighting up every corner of the city.
Aaditya would see metaphors in everything. Maybe my life will light up like Bombay tonight he thought.

“What’s that?” Aaditya asked, pointing towards a novel in her hand.

“Sidney Sheldon; keeps me good company when I’m alone.”

“Good habit…reading books.”

She didn’t know what to say. Very objectively, her mind had started the appraisal of Aaditya…like it did for everyone else. Every person in her life had a designation. He was a good friend, she would just be an acquaintance, never more, someone else would be just a ‘fun’ pal and a select few, who would know her inside out, who were her living personal diaries. They knew her so well, that she called them her second brain.
Aaditya still had to be given a place. She didn’t know him too well yet.


They seated themselves at a relatively quiet corner from where they could see people dancing to popular disco numbers. Aaditya took a bite of chapatti dipped in dal, “So, you’ve been living here since how long?”

“Since it was built- six years…and you?”

“Moved in just a couple of months back. The society organizes this party every year? Must be fun.”

“It’s a good turn out this year. Otherwise, these parties are usually very boring…oh by the way; I’m Shamita, Shamita Rao. And you are?”

“Aaditya Bose.”

“This is so crazy, we’ve been speaking to each other all this while and we didn’t even know each other’s names!” Shamita chuckled.

It was then Aaditya noticed that he found her beautiful. To the ordinary eye, she was not very pretty. Her hair was wiry, smile a bit too wide and cheek bones subtly prominent. But Aaditya saw beauty in her. Her eyes, the nose, hair, her voice-everything just fit.

“So, what do you do?” she asked.

“I’m on the editorial board for a leading daily newspaper…amongst other things.”

“Is it? That’s wonderful. Which one?”

“The Times Group”

“Wow…You know I’ve always been on the look-out for an editor. And now I find one, right here! I’m six months away from becoming a dentist but a writer at heart…unpublished though. I really wanted professional feed-back.”

“I would love to read some of your work.”
She felt a sudden surge of happiness in her heart. She always felt that when someone readily volunteered to read her work. They would know her through her words…if they were smart enough. Now, Aaditya would know her through her words. And she wanted to know how well he would understand her.

Aaditya noticed how pleasantly talkative she was. He could listen to her all day. He already had a crush on her. He was thirty-two. But he was a teenager at heart. He still had small crushes, and loved to watch cartoons. He, still, would be besotted by some women like he would be when he was nineteen.
He was besotted by her. She was special though, he realized. But it was not in his nature to express his wonderment on his face. Stoicism was one of his strongest qualities.

“What do you write about?”

“Philosophy, life, my feelings, anything that moves me enough to pick up a pen and write. When would you like to read my writings?”

“Any time”

“Now, after the meal? Is it okay with you?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay I’ll go get it once we are done with out meal.”

They were having their food in silence. Shamita was trying to rush through her food. Should I show him my poems first…or should I show him the stories first…..maybe poems….just show him the damn book! Let him read what he wants to.

“Shamita” her father’s voice broke in on her thoughts. “Your mother and I are leaving. Chalo we’ll go home.”

“You go ahead dad, I’ll be up in another fifteen minutes…meet my friend Aaditya, they’ve just moved in”

“Hi,” her father said, smiling politely, “looks like you finally found yourself some company…enjoy yourself, but come up soon beta.” Aaditya shook his hand with a polite hi.

“I will” he added.

Her father moved with her mother.
The disco numbers had now mellowed down to soft, slow dance tracks. The soft bass reverberated in her senses. She felt comfortable, at ease. It was a strange feeling she got with Aaditya. She thought she could be herself with him, in every which way.
They ate their food in silence, a rare comfortable silence until she got back some sense of time.
She looked at her watch; eleven-thirty it showed. It was time to go.

She turned to Aaditya and said, “Dad doesn’t like me, or anyone from home for that matter, staying back late in the night.”

“I understand.”

She shrugged, smiled and said “So I’ll have to bother you some other time.”

“It’s okay. We live in the same building. We can meet up some other time.”


She bid goodbye as she turned around and went home. His eyes followed her until she disappeared into the stairway.
The evening suddenly was lifeless, insipid now that he was left without company once again. He kept his plate back and left five minutes after she did, without waiting for the desert.


* * * * *


It was not before a week that they met again. They were seated side-by-side on one of the lemon yellow benches flanking the bright green garden. He held the book gingerly in his hands as he read. She studied his face. He showed no surprise, no smiles, and no frown. But then, she thought, he was an editor and not one of her friends.

He read through it quickly and handed the spirally bound book back to her. He read the title one more time though, before giving it back. ‘Meanderings’ it was titled.

“So, what do you think…load of crap?”

Her mind was beautiful he thought. Innocent, profound, inquisitive, curious; it was pure. He was searching for this reality in his life; for someone who had the courage to be so vulnerably honest. He had found it. Her words were her soul. He felt them, he felt her soul. Yes, he was falling in love with her. Yes, he was in love with her.

He composed himself before he spoke. He replied with equanimity, “No…but you got to read more, assimilate your thoughts better. Your sentences are a bit loose. You got to work on the sentence construction better. It’ll come to you when you read more.” His hands moved to supplement his words. “It’s quite nice actually.”

She had nothing to say. She had understood every word of it. There had always been something amiss in her writings. She had never quite known what it was. But now she knew… through him. Her writings were her soul. He had understood her words. He had understood her, through and through.

She smiled. That’s perfect, she said, exactly what I was looking for. Aaditya smiled back. His eyes into hers, she almost believed he could look into her soul with those penetrating eyes.

“Anything else?” she asked eagerly.

He thought for a while, looked at her I lust for your mind. But “No” is all that he said.

As she walked back home, she received a message on her mobile phone. It was him. Had a real nice time…haven’t felt so comfortable with someone in years.
She was left without a reply. Her mind did not want to believe what her heart had already started to. The abstract mix of fear, excitement, attraction and love left her confused.

She didn’t reply to the message. She was afraid of things going too fast. Things were moving too fast for her. Moreover she didn’t know what she wanted. Her much required confusion which drove her normally to ask questions and find answers, irritated her now. She didn’t know what to say, what to do and what to feel. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be.
She could never like someone who liked her first. It always had to be her liking the person first. She didn’t mind it if her love was one sided, but she believed in being in love, truly, unconditionally, without expectations.

They met again, on the Saturday of that week. They were taking a walk in the compound, amidst pre-teens playing Cricket.

She decided to start. “I got your message the other day. Didn’t quite understand what it meant.” She wanted him to express his intentions and feelings, as simply and as frankly as possible.

“What do you think it meant?” he asked her.

It hadn’t worked. She knew she would have to ask him straight.

“Okay…” she took a deep breath, “Aaditya, do you, by any chance, like me?” it was out.
She was relieved that the words flowed out of her so brilliantly. The words left silence behind them.

“Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, “Just…I thought you did…”

He smiled, looked at her. She wasn’t looking at him. He had decided to tell her this tonight. And this was the moment, he thought. He didn’t take his eyes off her, “You thought right.”

She looked at him, her face blank due to lack of emotion. She didn’t feel anything that moment. Her heart was placid. She stopped walking. He stopped too.

He took a deep breath, looked at her into her eyes, “I mean, I love you. It might have been barely more than a week that we’ve known each other, but I know I love you. I see beauty in everything you do, you say. I know the novelty will wear off, this, this juvenile excitement of falling in love. But I know my love will remain. I love you Shamita, I’m positive about that.”

She didn’t have words to say. “I need to think about this” she said, tearing her eyes away from his. His eyes looked too deep into her soul for her to be comfortable at that moment.

“No hurries. Take your time and get back to me. I’ll always be waiting.”

“I have to leave now.”

“Bye” he said

“Bye”

Two days passed. And she was still thinking. She lay there on her bed, trying to keep away sleep from her tired eyes.

He was not the man of her dreams. He was not her Fairytale prince. But a beautiful calmness would take over her when she would be with him. He understood her completely, more than she knew herself. But he was too fair, his mouth a little too small, his face too round, and body a bit too thin.
But there was a connection. She had been searching for someone like him her whole life. Someone who would tell her “This is You”

The excruciatingly loud phone ring interrupted her thoughts. It was he. “Hi” she said.

“So, how was your day?”

“Good, nothing special. How was yours?”

He spoke about his office work, things he was doing and that he was thinking about writing a book. She expressed delight at this thought. She told him that he should have thought about it long back.

There was a moment of silence then.
He spoke “So…what have you thought?”

“Of what?” she asked, knowingly.

“You know what.”

There was silence.

He spoke again, “You know, I always knew love. I didn’t know what I wanted; how I would feel when in love, but knew that I would know it when I felt it. I know it now Shamita… I’m in love.”

Her heart stopped. Why does he love me? Why can’t I love him the way he loves me? Oh God why? Make me love him…please.

She didn’t believe in prayers. God had never answered her prayers. She didn’t expect Him to answer this prayer of hers. She was right.
She did love him, but not as much as he loved her. She did love him, but as a friend and nothing more. She thought he was special, but never beyond that.

Deep down, Aaditya knew this would be too good to be true. But he lied to himself. She’ll fall in love with me one day.
Her silence told him the unpleasant. She would never have the heart to say no. She would never say no. But could he allow her to be with him just because he wanted to? He loved her too much for that. He couldn’t let her live a false life. He couldn’t bear the thought that she would forsake her honest self just to make him happy. He loved her too much for that.

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

There was silence again.

“Caesura” He said.

“What?”

“It means a meaningful silence. We have it so often when we talk.”

“Yes” she could hardly be heard. After a short pause she spoke again, “Don’t try and change the topic Aadi.”

“I won’t and I think I know your answer. It’s no.”

“I never said no.”

“But I know it’s a no. Your silence spoke for you. I don’t want you to say yes just because you’re convinced I love you. I want you to feel it from within. And I know you don’t.”

She was silent. He spoke right. Absolutely right. She let him speak. He continued, “I don’t love you for being in a relationship with you, though that would be a beautiful thing in itself. I love you because I love the idea of loving you. I love you because you’re born.”

His eyes were moist. She was already crying, albeit silently. He continued, his voice cracking up a bit, “I believe it was never meant to be. But we are beautiful, Shamita- you and I. you know that. I guess that’s enough to make me happy."

She bit her lip, trying hard to not cry, though tears were relentlessly flowing. He continued, “I will always love you. Even if I fall in love again, I’ll always love you.” And he fell silent. She was quiet too.

“I’m, I’m so sorry…” she spluttered, her voice cracked through her emotions.

“Don’t be. You don’t have to be, you never have to be sorry.” He spoke again, slowly, softly, “and I would appreciate it if we didn’t meet again, or speak over the phone again.

“Why?” she asked, worried. Who would understand my words then, who would understand me? She thought to herself, you bitch, you selfish bitch! All you can think of is yourself.

“Okay…” she hesitated. “Can we be in touch through mail at least?”

“Ya.” The word was short, difficultly spoken. She recognized the pain in his voice, but said nothing to attenuate it.

She gave a faint “Hmm”


And that was that. Like so many love stories, this one ended- incomplete. What remained was unrequited love, what remained was pain. What remained was sadness. Love and hope of love are the elixirs of life. They pull us through our mundane days and our mechanical lives. Love, like they say, paints our lives in colours we would have, otherwise, never seen. Without love and without hope, there is no life. It is, then, just existence.