When a Lawyer Falls in Love (13 page)

‘Talk talk, we are “vary” open minded!’ declared an old uncle with such a twang that the word talk rhymed with mark. Indeed. Except that Jaishree and the boy felt more like embarrassed children being forced to play by their parents.

“‘Whaaire” did the boy do his engineering?’ Someone enquired. The question seemed pre-engineered.

‘IIT of course! “Whaaire” else?’ another male relative answered and laughter ensued. Whether it was for the cocky presumption or for the pronunciation, it wasn’t clear. The girl of course was studying ‘La’. But somehow that didn’t seem to be too important.

There was something very staged about the whole affair. It was as if everybody had almost rehearsed their dialogues before making their appearance. That was the most annoying thing about arranged marriages thought Jaishree. Everybody knew the precise reason for which everybody else was here, yet there was a forced casualness.

Worse still was the fact that the marriage, according to thestars, had already been ‘arranged’. The boy meetingthe girl was only incidental. Yet the one thought that niggled the most at Jaishree’s baffled brain and helpless heart was—how will Souvik react? It wasn’t as if Souvik had proposed marriage or had even confessed his feelings for her verbally, yet Jaishree knew. Souvik Bose would be heartbroken. And the very thought almost broke Jaishree’s till now never-been-occupied heart.

Being stunningly beautiful, Jaishree Subramaniam had had more than her fair share of male admirers. Yet with Souvik somehow, it was different. Maybe it was the fact that, not once during a half decade association, did she ever see him lose his temper, a very common thing for law-trainees in the midst of a court argument.

Probably it was the fact that he had patiently waited to ask her out, regardless of the open secret that he had a rather sincere female fan following of his own. And the single-minded dedication he had shown while pursuing law assignments, music, poetry and her made it all the more hard for Jaishree to turn and look at the bespectacled male specimen next to her. Who of course had definite plans of engineering a prison cell called matrimony, exclusively for the soon-to-be Tamil bride.

‘So you want to be a “lawyerr”?’ the boy asked taking a noisy slurp from the hot coffee he had just been offered. ‘No! I hope to be a chef!’ the annoyed Jaishree wanted to retort. That simply had to be one of the most dumb questions to ask a final year law student. Yet Jaishree simply nodded and smiled. She realised that the boy and his thick spectacle frames were trying to make polite conversation.

‘By the way, I’m Srinath.’ The ‘boy’ introduced himself without being asked. Jaishree was almost certain his next sentence would be, ‘By the way, we are supposed to be getting married.’ All Jaishree’s career plans had suddenly gone off track. Now everything in her life was going to be ‘by the way’.

‘You know I don’t like this whole arranged marriage thing,’ Srinath announced, flashing a toothy grin as if sensing her thoughts. Jaishree almost heaved a sigh and was going to open her mouth, when the ‘boy’ added, ‘Actually, we should go around for sometime.’

Jaishree felt an odd knot forming in her throat. Her life was anyway going in circles, without her having to ‘go around’. Besides, thoughts of Souvik assailed her. Should she tell him?

‘I’ve done my engineering, you are doing your law. But our children will find it easier to learn the spelling of law,’ Srinath said, laughing at his own joke. It was indeed all a joke! It was rather presumptuous of the specimen with oiled hair to plan kids and predict their verbal abilities. All because he belonged to the same sub-divisional caste of Tamil Brahmins. Jaishree wondered if she could legally demand that he shut up.

‘You are so quiet…,’ remarked Srinath, looking at her in wonder.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Jaishree said finally, smiling and weakly defending herself. It was true. She really didn’t know what to say. On second thoughts all that she wanted to say had a certain Souvik as its integral theme.

Srinath and Jaishree had moved to sit together in a ‘discreet’ corner of the drawing room with fifteen pairs of ears pretending not to hear their conversation. Srinath was nursing a cup of
kapi
—coffee, for the uninitiated, in a tiny steel glass, which Jaishree’s
paati
had prepared for the occasion. For a family that had migrated from Madurai, old habits die hard.

‘Do you plan to continue with your profession?’ Srinath asked in his yet-to-be-perfected-English, taking another noisy slurp. ‘Do I plan to continue with this conversation,’ was the question Jaishree wanted to ask herself. But then again, profession rhymed with confession. Should she tell him, thought Jaishree uneasily as she nervously tweaked the edge of her lemon coloured chiffon dupatta.

That evening at the dinner table, after the guests had left, Jaishree sat quietly eating curd rice. Her father kept raving about the boy’s qualifications. Jaishree remained silent. She hadn’t told the talkative stranger about the recently realised existence of the love of her life. She didn’t have to. He could sense it. Just as Souvik didn’t have to tell Jaishree of his feelings.

Twenty-Five

‘Drugs?’ asked Souvik dazed, as if he himself was on dope. ‘You mean Rohit was on drugs?’ Ankur and Vyas gave a synchronised nod. College had reopened and the trio were final year law students now. It was their first day of the semester and Rohit’s last day in college. It was unusual for anybody to leave during their final year. But immediate therapy had been prescribed for the suddenly violent Rohit Randhwah. He would do his final year through correspondence. Away from college. Away from Sonali. Ankur couldn’t help but feel delighted. Yet Rohit‘s lavish treat at the farmhouse had managed to serve a smallpurpose—of gettinghim closer to the group. The guys suddenly felt that they were losing a friend. At least Souvik did.

‘But he seemed normal to me,’ Souvik repeated as if still in shock.

‘That’s because you are abnormal,’ Vyas said as if reminding Souvik of a fact. ‘Remember that time he asked me that cheap question during “Truth and Dare”?’ said Vyas.

‘Hello!’ corrected Souvik. ‘You act cheap and then call Rohit cheap,’ Souvik’s Libran sense of fairness disliked the idea of anyone being branded. Especially if the person in question was not around to defend himself.

‘Enough guys!’ Ankur butted in as he sensed an argument brewing. ‘We should at least be around to see Rohit off. He’s leaving for Pune for treatment. He has his train in the evening.’ Ankur couldn’t believe that he was the one furnishing details about Rohit. To think his original plans were of breaking his bones.

Yet now with Rohit actually headed for a hospital, Ankur didn’t feel the sense of triumph he thought he‘d experience. Such was life. Vyas’s incessant blabber jerked him back to reality, ‘Caroline and I have patched up, and she’s coming to visit me.’ Oh my God, not again! Ankur thought as he panicked. He could imagine Caroline sitting in his cupboard as they spoke.

‘Caroline has never seen our canteen. I’m inviting her on Saturday,’ Vyas was saying to a rather bored looking Souvik. Souvik was generally bored if he didn’t have his guitar, great conversation and the company of good-looking girls. More specifically Jaishree.

Even the canteen where they were presently sitting didn’t hold any charm if Jaishree wasn’t around. Souvik didn’t just miss Jaishree. He pined for her.

‘Rohit, just a minute,’ Ankur’s voice called out. Rohit turned around, suddenly looking pathetic. With a few days old stubble and sallow cheeks, Rohit seemed a picture of misery.

Ankur was not sure if he ought to do what he was about to do. But one thing was clear. It would make Ankur very proud. Even years later. Rohit looked a little suspicious as Ankur came towards him. They were at the main gates of the institute with Rohit having just collected his transfer certificate from the pokey office of the college.

With big strides, Ankur approached the one guy whom he had always considered a villain. The guy who had stolen Sonali from him and then stolen Sonali’s smile from her. There was definitely something Ankur wanted to give to the big bully.

‘So your train is in the evening?’ asked Ankur when he was closer to Rohit. ‘Yeah,’ Rohit answered a bit challengingly. Even if he wanted, Rohit wasn’t ready for a fight. His coughing frame simply wouldn’t allow it. But Ankur had made up his mind. He wasn’t about to let Rohit leave just like that. ‘This is for you,’ Ankur said holding out his right hand, which held a neatly wrapped gift.

Rohit literally flickered his eyelids like he was about to receive a punch. Or had already received it. The expression on his face bordered almost on shock.

‘This is Hugh Prather’s,
Notes to Myself
. One of my all time
favourite books. You should read it,’ said Ankur, smiling, as he handed over the gift wrapped book to a dazed Rohit.

‘Thanks!’ Rohit finally managed. This seemed more of a shock for him than leaving college. Next, Rohit did something he usually never did. He smiled. It was Ankur’s turn to be taken aback. He blurted, ‘You take care of yourself, okay…and don’t go about terrorising people!’ Ankur said in a mock serious tone. Rohit smiled apologetically and nodded. Rohit’s car had arrived. It was time to leave.

Before vanishing behind the tinted glass probably forever, Rohit came and spontaneously hugged Ankur. ‘I’m sorry about the whole Sonali thing…I’ve apologised to her a million times…these drugs have taken over my life…she has been such a good friend…she is a great girl…take care of her.’ Rohit said, his voice almost cracking.

Ankur simply nodded. Seeing Rohit, the classic villain, in such a state was having a very embarrassing effect on the hero’s tear glands. Rohit quietly got into the car, and drove out of the collective lives of Sonali, Ankur and the rest of the gang. Of course, Souvik and a couple of other guys went to see Rohit off at the railway station. Yet this was a journey Rohit had to undertake alone.

Twenty-Six

Loud female laughter pierced the air. Ankur was almost sure that all the glasses in the canteen must have cracked. Caroline D’Silva had one helluva high pitched laugh. Probably she was a hyena in her last life, thought Ankur as he too joined in the laugh.

‘He told you I emerged from a graveyard?’ enquired Caroline, not yet finished with her ear-damaging act. The whole gang was sitting around a table covered with a red and white checked sheet, which Ankur felt would be enough to tailor an entire new wardrobe for Caroline. She had come wearing a short top which she had probably bought when she was eleven and tight fitting jeans that served to reign in the flab that bulged out of her thighs.

By all means, Caroline was pretty, but her dress sense and recently bleached hair screamed for attention. Something that made Vyas uneasy.And if that wasn’t enough, Caroline punctuated each of her shrill laughs with a supposedly good natured slap on Pavan’s arm, causing many other students to turn and stare.

Jaishree and Sonali had attempted to sit next to Caroline in a bid to make her more comfortable, but Caroline had other plans. She quite inadvertently made the girls uncomfortable by cracking dirty jokes in mixed company. Vyas kept blushing and it was clear the other guys were thinking of ways to get away.

But Caroline was determined to torture her boyfriend’s friends.

‘The thing is, my Gramma is buried in that cemetery, Vyas had met me there and asked me for my e-mail id. Actually we had seen each other first when he had come for his EAMCET (Engineering and Medicine Common Entrance Test) counselling and I was accompanying a friend to that centre. But I always tell him to say that instead of counselling, he should say we met at a psychology course, it sounds more intellectual.’ Indeed, thought Ankur, trying to figure out the connection between an engineering counselling and a psychology course.

To her credit, Caroline did make an effort to mingle with everybody. Especially with the guys. Her obvious liking for Pavan was rather evident, but she insisted on getting under Ankur’s skin also. Caroline had seemed a lot better the day he discovered her in the cupboard, weepy and scared. Now she was plain scary. Too much interaction with her could leave one scarred. The way she spoke to Vyas, in front of his friends made it clear that besides being dominating and over-bearing she was also thoughtless and rude. Ankur wondered why Vyas was putting up with all of it.

‘I’ve heard you are good at astrology,’ Caroline said, finally turning towards Sonali, ‘I want you to read my palm,’ she said and stretched out her palm before Sonali had a chance to react.

The shape of a person’s hand can say a lot about one’s personality, Sonali had learnt. After wading through innumerable palmistry books over the years, Sonali was sure, that a person’s palm never lies.

Sonali smiled and adjusted her uncomfortable position at the table to take a better look at Caroline’s hand. Sonali normally read the palms of only her very close friends. Having palms thrust in her face wasn’t her idea of spending an evening. Caroline’s strangely masculine hand was covered with a maze of criss-cross lines. Sonali noticed unusual activity on the mount of Venus. The girl apparently had a very active ‘heart’. Sonali was sure that this was not something Vyas would want to know.