Do you cry too?

Abhra watched the station of Yashwantpur pass as the train started rolling. He cast a last look at the landscape that was visible beyond the station walls and noticed the busy traffic. He took notice of the sad face of the little girl he had come to adore so much. Hena had been on the verge of tears. She clutched at the Bugs Bunny; she had earlier received as a gift from Abhra and lifted a silent but very meaningful eye at him as if to say “please don’t go”. Suzanne was waving but Abhra could tell she felt sad too. It was already getting dark and the lights of the city were starting to come on. It was a sight that he would remember and more because of Suzanne Mridul Iyyer. The thought of her had brought a lump in his throat and he felt heavy at heart. It seemed only yesterday that he had received the letter that was mistakenly sent to him…

***

He had received a letter from some Mridul Iyyer from Bangalore branch of his office stating him to perform a peer review on the report sent along with the mail. He had not understood a word of the letter neither could he get how it got to him in the first place. He then had looked up on the mail server address book and found that there were two Abhras listed; he had realized it had been sent to him by mistake and replied to the mail to that effect. He had received yet another such mail the following week. That time too he had politely sent the reply stating that he was not the intended recipient. When he had received a third mail from Mridul Iyyer he had not even bothered to open the attachment and had replied back rather urging the person (he had not been sure of the gender then and the name had not suggested the gender either) to stop mailing him every now and then. Abhra was not of those types who would send out mails without a thorough checking of the language, the idea and the tone the language conveyed, the spelling errors, the mailing list and so on. In a nutshell he was a perfectionist and never left anything for a further comment from his seniors. So, the idea of a person sending out project mails to him was unthinkable. Mridul had been very polite and apologetic in the reply. The mail thanked him for his continued help and also stated that Mridul had found Abhra’s mails reflected his cheerful disposition. Abhra had sought clarification feeling elated and thus their pen-friendship grew. It had been a whole month of courtesy good morning mails and other chit chats that they had first spoke, over the intra-organizational telephone network. Mridul, as Abhra had learnt then, was a lady of about thirty (much to his surprise as he had thought, by the name, that Mridul was some guy. It was later that he learnt her full name that he realized that she used her middle name for official purposes.) and was married. They had then exchanged their mobile numbers and kept in touch. While Abhra’s office colleagues jeered at him for having a married lady as a friend Abhra knew and felt that it was nothing to be ashamed of. A friend is a friend be of any age.

Their friendship had grown for about five months and Abhra had come to know about her in-laws, her husband and her little five year old daughter Hena, when Abhra was selected to be sent to Bangalore for some project requirements. It was then that Mridul had suggested that he should stay at her place. Abhra was not too sure if he should accept the invitation. It had been only five months and they have only spoken over the phone or had exchanged mails. They had not even seen each other. Abhra knew about facial expressions and body language, and he also knew that they were difficult to forge and therefore they would only give a true picture of a person. But to observe them you would have to meet the person and unless you meet the person you will never have those gut feelings about him/her that often turn true. He was skeptic about the invitation but agreed all the same. After all what had he to lose. Suzanne worked for the same company that he worked for; she was polite in her mails, could converse extremely well in flawless English, could empathize with the finer feelings of life, liked poetry, liked to go biking and feel the freedom, etc, etc. What had to fear for thought Abhra and decided to stay at her place.

He had been received at the Yashwantpur Station by Suzanne and her little daughter Hena. Abhra had immediately taken a liking for the kid. She was a sweet kid with an aura of innocence that is hard to come by amongst kids of her age. Kids were born wiser now often Abhra had thought. They seemed to know all about everything thanks to the age of information and idiot boxes! To a four year old Marukh Mann or Theity Pinta would be the role models, to them entertainment would mean watching the item numbers and dance along, to them reading story books were a taboo or even the good old Grandpa-Stories were a complete waste of time. But Hena seemed strangely like what normal kids would be like. Abhra knew about Suzanne’s father, who was a very good storyteller and also knew that Hena spent a considerable amount of time with her grandparents since both her parents were of working community. That would have been the reason for her sweet and innocent nature thought Abhra, or perhaps it was a regional occurrence. Abhra had remembered his niece in Kolkata who was about the same age as Hena and felt the glaring distinction.

Suzanne had a very calm and calculated and friendly outlook it had seemed to Abhra, as she deftly drove her way through the famous Bangalore Traffic snarls. They had talked about how excited they both were about this trip and how the mails had started a friendship that has resulted in this meeting. Hena had been intently following the conversation of the stranger she came to meet and when Abhra noticed she seemed to curl up in shyness. They had seen the VidhanaSauda, the lower house of the state parliament, the famous Lal Bagh, the Hosur Lake and the Museum on their way to Koramangala where Suzanne stayed. It was a Sunday and the PVR had stated to draw the crowd even at the early hours of morning. Abhra could make out the uniqueness of Bangalore he had heard so much about. The climate was like the most wonderful thing about Bangalore, and Abhra was in love with the city within the very first hour that he had arrived.

They had spent the day together. Sudhakar, Suzanne’s hubby, whom Abhra had met when he had arrived at Suzanne’s place, was a very jolly fellow. He was a scientist at the NAL (National Aeronautics Limited) and knew a little of Bengali, much to Abhra’s pleasure. They had gone out to the PVR where they had window shopped for an hour before Abhra bought a stuffed Bugs Bunny for Hena, who had been so overjoyed that she had kept springing on every step she took as if in a dance and continued to do so for the rest of the day. They had lunched at the Maharaja and then they went back to Suzanne’s place. They lived in a sprawling complex of three bed rooms of which one was allotted at his disposal. Tired and stuffed Abhra had rolled into a slumber. In the evening they had gone over to the PVR again and enjoyed a movie.

The following days passed rapidly, for Abhra had to work very hard for the requirement demanded it. He came back late accompanied by Suzanne on most of the days for she too had to work late to meet her unrealistic deadlines as she had put it. Then on Saturday Abhra accompanied by the whole family went to visit on Suzanne’s parents. Mr. Charles, Suzanne’s father, was indeed a very easy going personality and he started to converse with Abhra as if he knew Abhra for a long time. They had talked about Suzanne’s childhood, the climate of the city and the history of Bangalore and many more things that Abhra could not clearly recall but the overall visit was a huge success. Abhra met Suzanne’s brother Abraham who it seemed took pleasure in pulling Suzanne’s leg. They had discussed lots of incidents and Abhra had shared his’ too. They had their dinner there and had planned out the outing for Sunday. The food was prepared by Suzanne and Abhra admitted that she was indeed a fine cook.

Abhra had till Tuesday for the assignment and as it drew near he had felt his heart add on weight. He could not gauge it but his week long association with this family had moved him closer to Suzanne. Sunday they had gone out to see the city. They had visited the ISKCON temple and then they had lunch at the Nandini Chain of Hotels. Abhra had found the traditional North Indian food much palatable. He had been fed up with the South Indian dishes that had to be sour and contained the traditional South Indian sambhar daal and rasam. Then they had visited the NAL where Sudhakar worked. Abhra could not of course get to the more sensitive areas of the laboratory but he was satisfied with the tour his hosts had prepared for. They had then gone to Suzanne’s father’s place where Hena was dropped off and they proceeded to the famous and notorious M. G. Road. It was a sight to be remembered for the place seemed like buzzing with crowd. With neon lights and pubs all around, it was as if Abhra was in Las Vegas. They had taken on a small pub and had chattered away their time over pegs of strong liquor, with the music playing in the background. Abhra found a glaring difference in the way pubs are conducted in Kolkata. He had the opportunity to be at the Someplace Else, the pub in Kolkata that he had heard too many praises about, but it was dingy and played the music too loud. The girls, mostly of the student category were no doubt very different from what Abhra was accustomed seeing in Kolkata. There in Bangalore, it seemed, the girls were all from the US of America. They certainly dressed and behaved similarly and perhaps thought in the same lines as them, Abhra had said. Suzanne had endorsed his views and had remarked “You know Kolkata chicks become babes in Bangalore. The transformation is amazing and I had the opportunity to see one change myself”. Abhra had been taken aback by the comment but he had kept quiet. Suzanne by then had had a drink too much.

Tuesday had come. Suzanne had taken the day off for Abhra was to leave. Abhra could sense the heaviness that kept mounting till it was time to say goodbyes. Abhra had bid farewell to Sudhakar in the morning when he had left for work. Suzanne gave him a ride to the station. Abhra had carried pure cotton saree from Kolkata. He had decided to give it away on the occasion of farewell. At the station Abhra had presented the sari to Suzanne who was clearly overjoyed. Cotton sarees were costly in Bangalore Abhra had learnt then. He took his berth in the train and it was then that he received a Blazer from Suzanne. It was beautiful. Abhra had been wondering what was there in the bag that Suzanne had carried along with her, he knew then that it had the blazer in it. He was overcome with powerful emotions but he had steadied himself….

***

He could barely see the face of Hena now but that was not because of the distance. Abhra realized he had been crying and the tears blocked his vision. He felt like crying out loudly to ease the pain that had resulted from his attempts to hold back his tears. He could hardly breathe. It was strange that human mind can be attached to someone in a way to induce tears and that too in such a short time. Abhra remembered his initial fears and doubts. They seemed so futile now. As the train gathered speed and the station lights went out of view Abhra could not stand at the gate any longer. He went into the wash room and cried his heart out.