Nandini had been right about whatever the doctors had said. He would gradually remember the missing pieces of his past, because the process had already begun. In fact the process had started right from the day after the accident. He had had those flashes, of random faces, of incidents he had no clue about. But back then, he had ignored them as mere dreams.
But now that he knew about the memory lapse, and Nandini had told him about the time they had been together, he could connect the dots. They weren't dreams then. That school, those kids, that was Nandini's school. Those hills, that beautiful sunrise...they were not mere figments of his imagination, he had been there and lived amidst them.
Manik was excited; excited in a happy way because he was so close to claiming those golden moments back, which he thought, had slipped through his fingers to dissipate in the bosom of time. But he was scared too, in a way that we all are of the unknown. Who knew what his three years away from home, friends and Nandini held in them. Nandini had only told him a diluted version of his own words, but who knew what lay beyond.
But where was Nandini, he had to share all of this with her...both the happy and the not so happy parts. He pulled the duvet off him and got up. He went to the balcony and looked out. She wasn't there. The bathroom door was ajar. Where was she then?
Kitchen...yes, may be she was preparing something for him...that trademark yacky kara of hers. How much he hated the taste of that strange brownish liquid, it could make him puke in the very first sip, and yet, he could gulp it all down, just because she had prepared it for him. The last five days, she had spent most of her waking hours in the hospital. And despite that, she had still made time to go home to prepare a little something for him. She wasn't a great cook, yet no michelin star restaurant could compete with her food because every morsel of it tasted of love.
He would never be able to explain, why these so called 'middleclass' gestures mattered so much to him. Gestures, that most people take for granted. Perhaps ,because no one had ever done them for him. A mother, who tends to a sick child, who cooks for her kids, who feeds them and puts them to sleep, who prays for their wellbeing, he had not had a mother like that. His, was special in the worst way possible. So special that he sometimes wished he didn't have one. Nandini was the first woman in his life to do these things for him.
She was in the kitchen, he could hear her voice. Manik tiptoed, to surprise her, but he stopped at the door hearing her conversation.
Perhaps her hands were busy or dirty because she had put the call on speaker.
"Sir abhi to kal hi main aayi hun, how can I go back today to pick the stuff. Every body gets a months' time to vacate their quarter and here you are giving me one day!"
"Yes, that's when they retire or resign. Have you forgotten that you were expelled on disciplinary grounds. Expulsion doesn't have privileges Miss Murthy. Come and pick your stuff and make sure you leave the apartment neat and clean. Your replacement teacher needs to move in ASAP."
"Sir, why don't you understand. My friend here is sick, its physically not possible for me to go right now."
"You have today's day Nandini. Either you do it yourself, or I will get it done. Your belongings would be thrown away and the cleaning charges will be mailed to your home along with the reason of expulsion." And the line went dead.
Manik stood there, behind the door watching Nandini struggle with her tears. She was angry but she was helpless. How mean could people be. She had told him about losing her job, but she hadn't mentioned she worked with such jerks. Manik felt guilty, Nandini was being punished for taking care of him, but he felt more guilty because he wasn't there to protect her earlier.
Taking a deep breath, he walked in and gave a stunned Nandini, a side hug.
"How are you feeling, Manik?" She said, pretending that nothing had happened.
"I am feeling much better...wo phone pe kaun tha?" He didn't get to share what he was so excited about. He had a more important issue to handle.
"Principal....I mean ex principal."
"Get ready, hum thori baad nikal rahe hai, we will vacate your apartment today itself."
"Are Manik, tum tension mat lo, princi thora weird hai. I will go later in the week, pehle you recover a bit."
"Nandini, 1 hour ok.... Get ready in an hour. I am injured, not dead. And the world is full of such weird people, you have to learn to not be a doormat."
When Manik chose to be stubborn, it was best to just follow his words. There was no point fuelling his ire.
"Waise how much stuff do have Nandini? SUV men fit ho jayega ya, ek van book karna parega?" He asked before disappearing to his room.
"Zyada nahi hai. We don't need a van."
*************************
Theme Music:
He couldn't recall it all, but they did seem familiar, these twists and turns, cutting across a green canopy under an overcast sky. He turned to see her staring out of the window.
Driving through these winding roads brought back so many memories for her. They had just had a magical beginning and there was so much that they could have done together here, amidst the sun kissed green hills and the misty valleys. But then, seldom does life work out the way we have planned for it to. At least he was alive in one piece, at least he was there beside her. She thanked her stars for this small (/priceless) mercy. Had he not survived that day, these same roads would have become the biggest curse of her life.
"We will come here again Nandini, don't feel sad." He wanted to hold her tight, but he couldn't in presence of the driver.
She nodded like an obedient child.
Manik loved hills, perhaps more than Nandini. He had spent many of his growing years in Dehradun, when he used to study in warrior High. He still remembered how unsettling it had felt to pack his bags and leave for Mumbai that one last time. Those silent hillocks had become his friends as close as his real ones. He could perfectly understand the turmoil Nandini was going through.
When they reached her home, the first thing Nandini did was to run towards that spot in her lawn where Manik had planted the Mango seed. She frantically searched for a sign of life, but there was none.
"Kya dhund rahi ho Nandini?" Manik came right after her.
"You know Manik, I told you about the memory game naa. This is where you had planted a mango seed and you had said that this memory will never grow old because every time we come here, it will only grow bigger."
Manik felt sad....at her innocence & their fate. He felt sad, even though he didn't remember saying any of that. It hurt to see Nandini hold on to the memories so earnestly. He wished he could set everything right, but there was nothing he could do, except be with her and hold her hand through this phase.
"It will germinate Nandu, it takes time. And I told you na, we will come back...to see it grow. And next time, we will dig it out and plant in our garden. Ok?"
That brought a smile to her face.
As they stepped into her house, a familiar vibe surrounded Manik from all sides. This warm fragrance, this indescribable feeling was too familiar to ignore. He could close his eyes and still not feel lost here. One step inside was enough to know that a part of him belonged here, forever. Yet he couldn't recall the visuals. They were hazy, too hazy for him to grasp. There was so much going on inside his mind, trying to fit in, trying to flip out, trying to trace back his footsteps that lay buried in time. But no matter how much he wanted to share these thoughts with her, he knew she needed her own space to mourn. He wouldn't infringe it.
She didn't have much to gather; her clothes, her accessories, few draperies, a folding bed and a folding couch. But the way she lingered in each room, breathing in the air and drinking the sight. To him it felt like, she was trying to pack more than just her belongings. He was helping her put things together.
And while he was at it, his eyes fell on a diary that lay on her dressing table, next to her jewelry boxes. He quickly flipped through the pages in her absence when he reached the last entry. He had only managed to read the heading "Its time for me to make a few confessions, Manik" when he heard Nandini's hurried steps. He quickly tucked in the diary in his backpack. From his previous experiences, he knew Nandini would never let him read her diary if he told her, he had it. So he stole it to read later.
Of all the things she had here, she would miss her bed the most. Yes she was taking it along, but it was not the same as having it here. Her bed wasn't just iron and cushion. It had a soul too, and even though she was carrying the iron along, the soul... no one could bring that back to her.