Opposites attract, but is it true? Well, science proves that. But what about people and their emotions that have no connection to science? How, do two people who are miles away in their thoughts, and their actions can attract each other without batt...
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Chandrima sighed, “They are going for each other's throats. I am telling you.” The girl from HR was known for her theatrics. She was supposed to get a file signed by Shravan, but she came back from his cabin as Ramnath Uncle and Shravan were having a verbal sparring match.
Aditya looked at me, and winked, “No wonder, your face is so flushed. Are you feeling okay?” The forever flirt in him never ceased a chance.
“Oh, my, no, I am fine.” Chandrima tucked one of her stray hair behind her ear. “Ramnath Sir is ripping Shravan Sir anew. Trust me. Not that he doesn't deserve it, that man is very mean.”
A little bout of possessiveness jolted through me. Shravan was indeed being mean, but no one knew the reason behind it. It's the domino effect we were seeing. If I look back in time, I would never blame him now for reacting to things like this.
A sigh broke through me, “I am going to grab a coffee. You guys need something?” Both of them shook their heads. Aditya was back to being the charmer. And Chandrima lapped up just about anything Adi was saying.
I lazily walked through the door of the cafeteria. At this time, the place was relatively empty. I ordered my caffé mocha and that's when my eyes landed on the man whom I had been familiar with once.
Shravan’s shoulders were hunched, hands rested on the table before him. And his face — closed eyes, jaws ticking every second — a waging war had been going on in his mind.
He looked like he was a fourteen-year-old boy again. Utterly defeated.
One of my earliest memories was of him being sad like this.
It had been a month since Ramnath Uncle and Shravan moved in. On a Sunday, Adi and I were playing by the pool at his house. For some reason, Adi kept looking back at the back door.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Sir is angry, Suman. Shravan and Sir are arguing.” Adi looked scared. He had always been a very calm boy.
“Why?”
“Shravan punched a boy in school. Principal Ma'am called both Sir and Mom. And he was angry because Sir couldn't go, only Mom attended.” Adi sighed, “And Shravan said to Mom, ‘You are not my Mom, and I hate you.’”
Ramnath Uncle’s voice boomed inside, with Nirmala Aunty's repeated plea to let go of the situation; it ended when Shravan came rushing out of the back door, he looked at us with so much rage that Adi scurried away leaving me there.
He walked toward the opposite side of the pool and sat on the edge with his legs in the water. Shravan was perpetually shaking as though he was cold. I didn't know what to make of his situation. I didn't understand why he was so angry when everything was so perfect. But deep down inside, I knew even when he looked outrageously angry, he was sad.
I looked around, wishing there was something that I could help him with. A tray of hot chocolate with Oreo that Nirmala Aunty left for us caught my attention. Adi finished his glass whereas I still didn't touch mine. I grabbed my glass and two Oreos and walked toward him.
Sitting down as he was, I placed the glass in front of him, “Nanu says, when you are angry, you must eat something. It makes your anger go away.”
As usual, Shravan didn't look at me or talk to me. He never talked. I tried everything since the day he had moved here, I dragged him out of his room to play with Adi and me; I asked him to go to school with us as all three of us went to the same school; I smiled at him every now and then hoping he would reciprocate; but voila, always nothing.
I sometimes felt he didn't hate me as much as he hated everyone around him. I kept bothering him and he kept humouring me with his silence.
When Shravan didn't reply, I tried again, “Are you angry because Ramnath Uncle married Nirmala Aunty and you miss your mom?” still nothing. I nodded, “You know, I miss my Mama Papa. She and Papa died in that car accident. But I am happy that I have Nanu.”
Poking on his shoulder I again asked him to have the hot chocolate which was not so hot anymore, “It's really good. Have a sip. If you don't like it, I'll have the rest. It's my favourite drink.” Still nothing. I sat there for another ten minutes, “It's getting late, Nanu will get worried. I am leaving the tray here.”
When I was about to step out of the pool area, I decided to glance back at him once more. Much to my delight he was eating the Oreo and going for the glass on the tray.
“Your order.” My musing halted when my Caffé Mocha arrived. Thanking the server I turned to go back to my workplace. But to my utter surprise, I stopped and ordered a hot chocolate. I simply couldn't leave him when he looked so heartbroken.
Gathering all my courage, I walked toward Shravan. He was sitting just a few feet away but it seemed I was walking a mile. My heart was already in my throat. He could throw that glass at me, he could insult me, or worse he could again blame me for ‘fraternising with boss and his family'.
Slowly I put the glass in front of him and took the chair across from him. He didn't flinch, he didn't look at me, yet he kept staring at the glass. Slowly, Shravan’s shoulders relaxed, and if I wasn't wrong, a corner of his lips twitched. Of course, he remembered.
I sat there having my caffé, memorising his face as his gaze lingered on his drink.
He had matured so gracefully, not overtly muscular yet proportionate. Prominent cheekbones with five o’clock shadows; his hair perfectly styled; broad shoulders fitted the black suit he was wearing finely; his hands strong and intimidating lined with light blue veins that begged to be traced — he was nowhere near the scrawny boy I knew. But if something hadn't changed enormously in these years — that was his eyes, the same light brown sad, and lonely eyes.
After sitting there for another fifteen minutes finishing my caffé I decided it was time that I get back to my work. Shravan still didn't have the drink. I deliberately stood up and left the table as gracefully as possible.
I was by the door when I debated whether to look back or not. But thank god, I did or I would have missed Shravan taking a sip from the glass I left for him.
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A little longer this time. What do you think? Let me know through your comments.
