It was'nt so long ago, or perhaps thats an illuson that I would like to keep. School for me had always provided a premise for memories, some cherished and some being plain unforgettable. I have, in my life so far, met people who also experience an association of their lives' events with an equal music, music which transport them back to the time when they felt the tunes making a difference in their diurnal difficulties, or pleasure as the case may be. And there are these specific "days" that we celebrate and ignore for our own good reasons.
Valentines day was never my favorite, It still isn't but be it the Shiva Sainiks or the eternally blessed Kolkata couples, who are to be found everywhere and in plenty; its difficult to ignore a festival which now has achieved national importance.
What i remembered this Valentines day is a little story.It happened not so long ago. Coming out of a boy's school to a co-educational facility was a culture shock for many like me. All the years of growing up in an all male enviornment had taught us very little about community living, to an extent that a conversation with someone from the opposite sex seemed difficult and needed preparation. Located in a small town in Jharkhand, most of us in school suffered from the "what if " syndrome. In our sub-conscious mind, we had often believed that even a harmless chat with a girl could possibly land us in trouble, what if our parents come to know, what if this leads me to falling in love and screw IIT JEE? what if a batchmate spreads a rumour around? and many such possibilities would essentially hold us back from having that "oh so desired" conversation. The initial days of eleventh standard were strictly spent with exchanges of occasional smiles and stolen glances. Just when things were starting to get a bit comfortable, came this Valentines day. In our gang of six (all guys) ,we had by that time developed or were forced to develop a certain set of affectionate notions towards certain females and bang came the opportunity to act smart or be left out. "What if somebody else gives her a card and she acccepts? " was the latest from the "what if" syndrome. All of us however discovered that we lacked or didnt have what is called the "balls" to put on a smile and wish the ones we wanted to. Somebody had to take a lead, somebody had to do a demo... somebody.
"Pundit" was called so because of his phenomenal grades in Hindi and Sanskrit,potentily the unlikeliest of the cadidates to have even looked at a girl and vice versa. I was surprised when he popped up a card on the 12th evening asking me to write a few lines in English which he would present to this girl named Ranjana. Of all the "studs" and the supposed "lady killers", who were still busy searching for their "balls", here was a guy, nonchalant, unheard, ready to set a welcome
trend. I was happy and excited and wrote a few words to the best of my capability. I was happier when he read those and expressed his satisfaction.
The hot topic of discussion in our gang of six the next day revolved around speculating the consequences of the act to be, a lot of "what ifs" surfacing from several quarters. The decision was to monitor the proceedings, I was to figure out the when and where of the act and accordingly communicate to the group, which I did shamelessly and meticulously. That evening we again discussed the pros and cons, about how Pundit's life can change post the act, will he resort to alchohol if the card is rejected? if accepted will they get married in a few years? Is she goodlooking enough? etc. I had to write a few more lines for another friend as he decided that the consequence of Pundit's act is going to decide his plan of action, the logic being weird and statistically insufficient.
Next morning in the first recess we all saw Pundit and Ranjana walking towards a corner near the new cycle stand of our school. I saw him drawing out the white and blue card from a neatly folded Archies polybag. With a glimmer in his eyes and hope in his heart, he presented the card, smiling genuinely. She opened the card, read for a while and smiled back, I guess she said "Thank you" and started walking in a different direction. Pundit turned around and started walking towards the classroom with a grin on his face, the bell had rung and the short recess was over.
I dont remember seeing them together again apart from clicking a photograph in our class picnic later that year, a photograph that i still have. We were all lost in our routine and discomfort to even notice what happened between them, to even maybe bother about this small incident which became exceedingly insignificant as time passed by. Pundit went to study agriculture after school. A couple of years back I got the news that he is no longer with us. He had developed a cancerous growth in his intestines which proved fatal. I dont know where Ranjana is, I dont even know if she knows that Pundit is no more, dont know if she still has that card with her. What I know for sure looking at their photograph, is that they looked great togather.
