The French class was held only on weekends.
The next weekend Vichitra was again late for the class. He arrived at eight – late by half an hour. As soon as he entered the class he was glad that Ajitabh was not ducking behind the table. He thought Shararati Jaat was in a good mood today.
Vichitra looked for an empty seat. He ran his eyes around the room, and with a jerk he stopped them in the middle. He couldn’t believe his eyes; Shararati was sitting with the same girl who Vichitra was already in love with. Damn he hadn’t been able to find out her name yet and this dumbo was already sitting with her. With a heavy heart he looked for an empty seat. He cursed his luck that day… there was only one seat empty and that too right next to Swati. He would have to bear with her for one hour.
He went and quietly sat beside Swati. Shararati and the girl were sitting in the row right in front. Now he understood why Shararati Jaat was sitting quietly for a change. He was looking rather happy. Vichitra would have to do something about it.
Shararati turned behind towards Vichitra.
‘Hi dost. Comment ca va?’
Vichitra was in a dilemma - whether to reply in French or in English. It took him five seconds just to decide that. He looked at Shararati, then at Swati, again turned to Shararati, and said finally ‘tres bien’. Swati was smiling all this while. Vichitra on the other hand decided to concentrate on learning French.
For the entire duration of the class Chanchal just looked for ways to play mischief with Ajitabh. Sadly she did not get any such opportunity. Today Ajitabh was extra careful in answering to questions and especially those put up by either Chanchal or Shararati.
When the class got over Chanchal asked Vichitra for his notes. She hadn’t written a single word and she needed someone’s notes to study from. She was a little surprised though as he hadn’t refused.
Vichitra had brought a different notebook today.
She took his mobile number also - in case she had any difficulty in understanding his hand writing she could always call him up.
The next day in the office Vichitra received a call from someone in the evening.
‘Hello can I speak with Vichitra?’ said a female voice.
The voice felt familiar to Vichitra. He had definitely heard this voice before. He tried to remember and in a blink he knew who it was. It was a girl from his school days.
‘Oh… Hi Liza how are you? Long time… Where have you been?
Liza was one of Vichitra’s crushes in his school days.
There was silence on the other side for sometime.
‘Hmm… I am Chanchal’
He just couldn’t believe his luck; it was she who had called him up.
‘Can you please tell me how is dog pronounced in French?’ sweetly asked Chanchal.
‘Chien; she-an’ replied Vichitra.
Anyways this set the ball rolling between them.
They became the best of friends. They just couldn’t stop talking to each other on the phone.
One day they were talking on the phone when out of the blue Chanchal asked him;
‘Vichitra… do you know how does one fall in love?’
‘I don’t know’ casually replied Vichitra.
Vichitra tried to be philosophical. He thought about it for a minute and then added.
‘Hmm let me see… maybe it’s like… most of the times it’s the physical attraction which you think is love. Sometimes you just start liking the person you mostly share your time with. Frankly speaking I have no idea!’
‘Thank you Vichitra’
Vichitra was of course very happy. He thought she was referring to him
They continued talking for some more time and then she spoke up suddenly;
‘I have decided’
‘What’
‘I am going to go out with this guy… I think I am in I love with him’
Vichitra hesitated in asking this but then he couldn’t keep himself from doing so.
‘And who are you talking about?’
‘Shararati’
Vichitra was crestfallen.
He gently ended the conversation and hung up the phone.
In the next ten minutes he came up with the following prose.
‘There is no day when you don’t talk to her
There is no talk which doesn’t continue for hours
There is no hour when you don’t think about her
Still, she is so far away from you
No voice has ever been so soothing
No laughter has ever been so refreshing
No beauty has ever been so enchanting
Still, she is so far away from you
You have never known anyone better
You have never adored anyone more
You could have never asked for more
Still, she is so far away from you
You have never known any fear but of losing her
Of losing her, of losing her
Still, she is so far away from you
Because, she doesn’t love you’
© 2007 Ankur Shanker
Archives
The next weekend Vichitra was again late for the class. He arrived at eight – late by half an hour. As soon as he entered the class he was glad that Ajitabh was not ducking behind the table. He thought Shararati Jaat was in a good mood today.
Vichitra looked for an empty seat. He ran his eyes around the room, and with a jerk he stopped them in the middle. He couldn’t believe his eyes; Shararati was sitting with the same girl who Vichitra was already in love with. Damn he hadn’t been able to find out her name yet and this dumbo was already sitting with her. With a heavy heart he looked for an empty seat. He cursed his luck that day… there was only one seat empty and that too right next to Swati. He would have to bear with her for one hour.
He went and quietly sat beside Swati. Shararati and the girl were sitting in the row right in front. Now he understood why Shararati Jaat was sitting quietly for a change. He was looking rather happy. Vichitra would have to do something about it.
Shararati turned behind towards Vichitra.
‘Hi dost. Comment ca va?’
Vichitra was in a dilemma - whether to reply in French or in English. It took him five seconds just to decide that. He looked at Shararati, then at Swati, again turned to Shararati, and said finally ‘tres bien’. Swati was smiling all this while. Vichitra on the other hand decided to concentrate on learning French.
For the entire duration of the class Chanchal just looked for ways to play mischief with Ajitabh. Sadly she did not get any such opportunity. Today Ajitabh was extra careful in answering to questions and especially those put up by either Chanchal or Shararati.
When the class got over Chanchal asked Vichitra for his notes. She hadn’t written a single word and she needed someone’s notes to study from. She was a little surprised though as he hadn’t refused.
Vichitra had brought a different notebook today.
She took his mobile number also - in case she had any difficulty in understanding his hand writing she could always call him up.
The next day in the office Vichitra received a call from someone in the evening.
‘Hello can I speak with Vichitra?’ said a female voice.
The voice felt familiar to Vichitra. He had definitely heard this voice before. He tried to remember and in a blink he knew who it was. It was a girl from his school days.
‘Oh… Hi Liza how are you? Long time… Where have you been?
Liza was one of Vichitra’s crushes in his school days.
There was silence on the other side for sometime.
‘Hmm… I am Chanchal’
He just couldn’t believe his luck; it was she who had called him up.
‘Can you please tell me how is dog pronounced in French?’ sweetly asked Chanchal.
‘Chien; she-an’ replied Vichitra.
Anyways this set the ball rolling between them.
They became the best of friends. They just couldn’t stop talking to each other on the phone.
One day they were talking on the phone when out of the blue Chanchal asked him;
‘Vichitra… do you know how does one fall in love?’
‘I don’t know’ casually replied Vichitra.
Vichitra tried to be philosophical. He thought about it for a minute and then added.
‘Hmm let me see… maybe it’s like… most of the times it’s the physical attraction which you think is love. Sometimes you just start liking the person you mostly share your time with. Frankly speaking I have no idea!’
‘Thank you Vichitra’
Vichitra was of course very happy. He thought she was referring to him
They continued talking for some more time and then she spoke up suddenly;
‘I have decided’
‘What’
‘I am going to go out with this guy… I think I am in I love with him’
Vichitra hesitated in asking this but then he couldn’t keep himself from doing so.
‘And who are you talking about?’
‘Shararati’
Vichitra was crestfallen.
He gently ended the conversation and hung up the phone.
In the next ten minutes he came up with the following prose.
‘There is no day when you don’t talk to her
There is no talk which doesn’t continue for hours
There is no hour when you don’t think about her
Still, she is so far away from you
No voice has ever been so soothing
No laughter has ever been so refreshing
No beauty has ever been so enchanting
Still, she is so far away from you
You have never known anyone better
You have never adored anyone more
You could have never asked for more
Still, she is so far away from you
You have never known any fear but of losing her
Of losing her, of losing her
Still, she is so far away from you
Because, she doesn’t love you’
© 2007 Ankur Shanker
Archives
1 comment:
[Pauperji] Hehe..
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