Chapter 3

Not now God. Not now. I wasn't ready for my happiness to end on a sour note and the look on my mother's face did not warrant any better tidings. I was sure she was waiting for me to combust into an angry fireball. I tried to slip into oblivion without a word but then I could only hope.

"Abhilasha Bhayani, where were you in the morning?" She enquired thunderously.

On occasions like these, I wish I could be inconspicuous and squeak like a mouse. But contrary to it my tone was too offending for any person in authority, let alone be it Mother India.

"Park Street," I growled.

"Do I need to ask who was with you?"

I almost smirked internally and groaned at her stupid question. Why do mothers act such awfully under influence? I am certain about a call to her from any one of my well-wishers informing her about my whereabouts in detail. Yet I had to answer, otherwise, it would come across as my defiance and arrogance.

And before I could open my mouth to answer her query, torrents of advice landed on me, without care to listen to the what, when, why, where and how of investigative journalism.

"I have told you utmost times to stay away from Jigar Bhansali." She howled.

"We might be family friends but we aren't from the same social strata." There was a dip in her voice and a sense of resignation with these words. "It's never going to work Abhi, please don't ruin your life over a guy who- "

I interrupted her thought process at that very second because I could not understand where all this was coming from.

"Ma, Jigar is just a friend, my best friend. There is no romantic liaison between us and we can never be together. Both of us don't see each other in that light. There is no future for us together. We are two different individuals who are incompatible with respect to our thoughts and life's philosophies."

Mother India just stared at me blankly unable to process the words. She refused to make any meaning of what I said. It was beyond my sensibilities to make it clearer. I dashed into my room to avoid any more conversation. The news had to wait till everything calmed down.

I had a week's time to reach Mumbai and could not withhold information from my parents for too long. The bookings needed to be done on time. I would have made a move quickly but the untimely feud made me shut my mouth till the time the storm had settled. Pacing in my room for more than an hour, I could not come up with a plausible story to narrate how I landed the internship. Revealing the truth at this moment seemed it would do me more harm than good. My stomach was in knots with worry and with a week in hand there was a lot to prepare.

The rest of the day passed in worrying about my parents' reaction. Not that they weren't aware of my ambition and dreams, but to tread on that path and so soon would definitely shock my parents. The clock was ticking unduly slow and yet every tick was having an inversely proportional reaction on my heartbeat. My fear for the unknown was making my heart go putty. I was awaiting my dad's return. I wasn't so scared to even when I had flunked Maths in my board examinations. The irony could not even be lost on me. Instead of celebrating an opportunity like this, I was dreading its announcement.

My dad arrived ages later than his usual time. He seemed relaxed and not in one of his foul tempers. A freelancer that he was, his work never offered him the security of earning a consistent amount. He was very rich on one particular day and a complete pauper on the next. Did it bother me? Yes! Happiness wasn't a constant thing in my life. It was effervescent and momentary. I treasured the fleeting moments of happiness that money brought in my house in the form of my favourite book or dinner at our favourite joint. There couldn't be more and I never demanded it. I was just not acquainted with the idea of luxury in life. Luxury to me was serenity and peace in my house when my parents weren't squabbling over money and when my sisters didn't bother me with their work.

Innocence that's what they call. I was yet to be corrupted by the ways of the world. I knew I would never be tainting my soul over something as petty as money. My life goals were simple just like any regular middle-class girl. I wanted to work, make an identity of my own and have enough money to ensure I never see my parents fighting over a paltry sum.

Phew! Showtime! I moved out of my room to help my mother set the dinner table, secretly hoping dinner would not be a nagging affair with my mother playing spoilsport by narrating the day's events in her own fashion. No one made an effort to start a conversation and so far things were good and in control.

"Dad...I...have received an invitation to join the internship program for FMN News in Mumbai," I announced candidly but with hesitation.

"Wow!" My sister squealed in delight.

I didn't expect a burst of excitement from my sister, nonetheless, I was happy to have found some support.

After a long pause which seemed like an eternity, when he said "Why Mumbai?" I realized the interrogation had just begun.

"Why did you apply for an internship there? Why not Kolkata?"

"Dad...Kolkata." I sighed. "Where are the opportunities?" There is hardly any news breaking out from this shitty place and it did not make any sense to apply in an office where there was nothing to learn and do."

My mother was quiet throughout. She kept on zooming her eyes at my father and then me. The effect was comical.

"Dad it is just an internship, I am not relocating to Mumbai permanently. And I do not wish to pursue a career in Kolkata, ultimately I want to move out."

My dad seemed angry. "Why do you want to leave us? A streak of independence?"

"Oh, common dad. Who wants to stay here? And where are the jobs? And if there are they don't pay us, unless you are happy eating peanuts. Dad, I want to eat Zinger Burger, enjoy Domino's Pizza without batting an eyelid or giving an iota of thought about compromising on ten other things. I want to hobnob in the best fine dine restaurants at Park Street and go on a mindless shopping spree at Forum. All these are dreams without money. And I don't ever see myself achieving anything out here unless I move out from this forever stuck in time about its culture and heritage city."

I internally groaned. This was a pathetic argument. All I could talk about was food and shopping as the reason to move out. That was so shallow of me. How could I blabber such rubbish? I was sure I needed an introspection on what I was doing and why.

What I could make out from my dad's sighs were that I had lost the argument to him completely. I had failed miserably in convincing him. Bye-bye internship and Mumbai. Some damage control was definitely needed. I steered the argument in another direction and questioned the state governance and blamed it on the downfall of the city. It was a courageous attempt but very mean.

In a small meek voice with wavering eyes when I made an effort to speak again, I accused myself of overconfidence and lethargy for not preparing myself with probable answers for dad's questions. "Dad, I am sorry; I know I am sounding really stupid in my reasons but you have to believe me. I don't see a future for myself in this city. Even if I was presented with an opportunity to work here, dad what kind of stories would I be coming up with. There are hardly any events that shake up the entire nation to take cognizance and watch. It is always the antics of the so-called Sisterhood of Bengal that makes news and eventually makes us the laughing stock."

"And Dad I am proud of the education you have provided me with, you made sure I studied in the city's best institutions, it's just that..." I was fumbling, "I need to test myself and see where I stand in the crowd."

I didn't know what more to say to convince him. I could not see a speck of emotion on his face. He had the most poker-faced expression at that moment which revealed nothing.

"Dad, you need to trust me." I finished it in the best possible way I could. The rest was up to him. He was definitely in that moment the God of my destiny who could determine my way forward.

He did not reply nor did he look at me during the rest of the dinner. It was peaceful...Nah fraught with tension. I was at tenterhooks; I wanted any sign to know where this conversation placed me. But there was no hope. He finished his dinner and left without a word. We cleared up and I prepared myself for a life in Kolkata, something I had never envisioned in my wildest dreams.

_____x_______x________x_________x_________x________x________x________x______x______x

I felt hopeless and lost. Nothing was in my control. I had fired the bullet and now I could only wait for a reaction to the same. It could be both an equal and opposite reaction, wounding and bleeding me or a fizzle that would be lost in the cacophony of the normal routine.

I could not help myself but kept on staring at the fan on the ceiling in my room. I was drained and devoid of all my energy and emotions.

"You are worried."

I wanted to snap but controlled the desire. "Nope, doing fine."

"I am really happy for you sis. So, finally Mumbai...it is...you are running to. Huh?"

I didn't reply, because I did not want to unleash my worst sarcastic replies on her.

"I don't know man and why are you introspecting me. I am not running to Mumbai and this internship isn't about escaping a hell hole. This is about doing something worthwhile. Living a life, growing out and flying."

She didn't fire back and listened to me calmly. It was soothing and had an embalming effect. I mustered some courage and vented out all my pent-up frustration and anger freely.

"I really want to experience things on my own. I have always been living a sheltered life and under the shadow of mom and dad, their rules, their ideas. There is so much to life and I want to achieve much more than that. I feel small in comparison to the achievements of my peers. Look at Sia, she secured a scholarship for her Master's program at Berlin University, Akaash is moving to Delhi for Masters, Mayank has qualified to start training for Infosys and is moving to Mysore...everyone is set and has a definite five-year concrete plan. Where do I stand among them? Just like another clueless loser"

"Sis," and she shook me up literally and figuratively. "You were the first one to secure admission in the Master's program amongst all of them. And that too in the country's premier institute. Don't belittle your own achievements." She looked at me endearingly.

"Common, I couldn't have gone to Pune ever. Fifteen lakhs for the premier institute in India was sheer stupidity." My heart was heavy even while talking about it. I had burnt the midnight lamp to prepare for the entrance exam, had given up six months of my pleasure to slog for an entrance; only to realize that it could never be a part of my destiny.

"You were wise. A loan of fifteen lakhs on an exorbitant interest rate of 8% per annum would have taken you at least a minimum of 9 years to repay that to considering your first salary would be at twenty-five thousand per month."

"Hmmm... I feel like a loser. I chickened out on the last day of the approval of my loan."

"It isn't called chickening out it's called a smart move. You know sis life is a game of chess, if you do not calculate the risk and plan your moves, chances of winning, in the long run, are highly unlikely."

My sixteen-year-old sister at that moment seemed wiser to me. She was always positive about everything, while I was the pessimist. It was cathartic talking to her. We never did the soul searching together. We always blamed each other for our miseries.

A slow smile crept on my face.

"What? Why are you smiling? She enquired.

"I hate you."

"I know that. Tell me something new."

"When we were kids do you remember each of us praying to God after a long fight that no one should ever get a sister like you?"

She burst out laughing and clutched her tummy in remembrance of our old days.

"Yeah, you were such a bully. Always inciting me with your mean words."

"What about your nasty little hands that always itched to touch me in all the wrong places."

"Why do you hate me?" She asked me poignantly.

After considering my reply for eternity I told her the truth, "Because mother loves you more than me."

"Bullshit! Dad & mom both dote on you. You are their firstborn."

"Huh! Not true."

"You know why I hate you."

There was no reason why I should be replying to this. I let out a sigh and left it for silence to cover it up for me. She nonetheless continued.

"I hate you because you are the best. Whether it is studies, manners or behaviour, you are always too good to be true. I am not even an inch closer to you. Mom constantly compares us and fills my thick head with examples of you. I can never fill in your shoes and as a matter of fact, I don't even want to. I just want my own space and I want to be me. And not bogged down by a legacy initiated by you."

"Are you done? Let me tell you, you have always been ma's favourite and this is something I could never digest. Perhaps because you are the prettier one among the two of us. She has always ignored your follies and made my own look hideous and despicable to an extent that she would always harp on your good and caring side while I was a heart cast out in stone, emotionless and ruthless which was far from the truth."

We kept on bickering as if there was no tomorrow and letting each other know how we felt truly about each other. Ahh, the follies of the immature minds!

I kept on ranting my misery, "It hurts when you are told constantly that you don't care, you run away from family problems and the shit that you have been hurling at me ever since you got a sharp tongue and dimwit's brain."

She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, "oh so you know that I have a brain of my own."

I interrupted her banter, "that you never put to use until it is about anything wile."

She feigned deep hurt at my remark and lunged at me. We fell over laughing and at that moment for the first time in my life, my sister and I connected on a deeper level.

She continued blabbering and I kept flitting my gaze to her and to the door waiting for my mother to come and announce my fate. In those anxious moments of knotted worry, I blacked out into a complete state of oblivion, I don't know when.