"Reality" Bites

What was the last time I saw her. It would have been close to 13 years before. Back when our High School awards functions were held. The last information I heard about her was that she got married. It was Sai who told me that she did a court marriage. There were a lot of resistance from her relatives and she took the courage to marry her sweet heart from a different religion.

Today she was standing in front of me in my cabin, looking pale and tired.

“… Deee..paa.. Isn’t that you ?” I asked with a pause of doubt.

“.. Yes.. ..Rajan.. How are you?”

“I am fine, how are you and how come you are here?”

“I am ok. I work here in this city. My school is on the second cross on this road and I am a clerical staff there.”

“Clerk?” I asked doubtingly.

“Yea. And I never knew you were here. How long have you been here?” She asked.

“5 months. Got a promotion from the last branch and I am in charge of this zone now. Tell me what can I do for you?”

“Rajan… I am in need of some real quick money and I have only these as options” She told this as she was getting out a dozen of bangles from her hand bag.

“Can you please take this and lend me a loan?”

I sat perplexed. Never in my life would I have thought of facing such a situation. Not at least facing Deepa. She was the best student in the school, and we all thought she will go on to become a Doctor or Engineer or even a Civil Service personnel. Such were our aspirations; more than ours, our parents’.

“Hmmm .. sure let me weigh them and I want you to fill this application form in the mean time ”

As she was filling out the form, I asked her about her family and kids. Her husband was working in a corporate firm and had a kid going to the same school she worked. I never asked more about her financial situation and even if I asked I was not sure which way she would take it; she was not the Deepa I knew 13 years back.

She filled in the form and I told her the amount she would be able to get. She seemed quite okay with it. I gave her the money the cashier brought into my cabin (Some of the luxuries I can afford to take as a Branch Manager).

“Thank You very much Rajan. You don’t know how much this means to me. I must be going now.”

“I know Deepa. I do know” - I said to myself.

I walked her to the door. As she went down the stairs, I called her again.

“Deepaa.. I never expected you to see in this state. I thought you will be a Doctor or Engineer by now”

“I too Rajan.” She replied. “I never expected to see you as a Bank Manager”

She said that and walked away.

Years before Deepa was the best student of my school. I always was the second or at times third or fourth. There was always a Rajesh or an Anitha to knock me down. But Deepa was always the first. Never in her school life has she given that spot to any one until the State School Final Examinations. In our SSLC examination, that year I topped the school and the difference between Deepa’s and my marks was just one. By virtue of that one mark I won a lot of prizes. Those prizes, which Deepa might have cherished to hold in her hands.

That year at the high school awards function she congratulated me on the reply speech and personally came to me and wished me good luck.

Me, my mother, Anitha and her mother were walking back to home that evening after the function. As we were crossing the play ground in front the school suddenly Anitha’s mother held my hand and started talking.

“See Rajan.., hard work never fails”. I never realized why she started that topic. I thought it was going to be just another “hard work” advice from a student’s mother until when I noticed Deepa and her sister walking along with us at a distance. As they came closer to us, she dropped the bomb.

“Rajan, you have been playing the second fiddle for a long time now. And you delivered at the right time. To some other people consistent first rank has gone onto their head and it was good that at this time you could bring them down.” She was obviously hinting at Deepa and she made sure that Deepa heard it by saying it a bit louder than usual.

The Deepa I knew never held any air about her being the first rank holder. She was very friendly and helpful to most of the students in the class. The fact was she was number one in the studies and we couldn’t just catch up with her. And when someone finally did, it happened to be at the worst time for her and that guy had to be me. I felt bad hearing those words from Anitha’s Mom. As Anitha was protesting with her mom, I could see Deepa walking down the next by lane to her house. I never saw her face, but I was sure there were tears rolling down her cheeks. It was the last time I saw her before today.

As I drove back home, it rained for the first time in the summer. Monsoon has started knocking down and my mind too was freshened up with some good memories from the school. Those days when you spend laughing, playing and studying without any fuss. Tensions were for parents. Catch up with Rajesh; catch up with Deepa. They would yell. They would find out where Deepa was going for tuition and send their child there.

For me; it would be the times I spend on the playground, the youth festivals I participated and the plays I enacted that I would cherish. But that small pep talk on the awards functions evening which left me embarrassed and which might have left tears on Deepa, would be the one I would love to forget even though it keep on haunting me. And today as she walked into my cabin, that evening 13 years back was the first thing that came to my mind.

My wife opened the door for me with an exaggerated smile. She always puts on that smile whenever she wants me to do something for her.

As I sipped in the coffee, she came and sat near me on the sofa’s hand rest. Putting her hands around my shoulder and gently massaging them she said:

“You know something. There is a competition for the children from the age of zero to two years. It’s called the Happy Baby contest and is hosted on India TV by the Tuggies Diapers. It’s like a reality show for the kids. “

“So?” I frowned.

“There is an audition at Tagore Centenary Hall this weekend. Shall we take Vava for it? ”

My Vava is just 7 months old and her mother is already gearing her up for a competition. I had suffered the stress of being competitive at school and have reached nowhere. Is Vava too going to suffer the same way at such an early stage?

I sat confused as my wife explained the rules, regulations and the intricacies needed to survive in the competition.

(C) Dhanush Gopinath 2008.