An Ode To A Muse

Despite the heavy air conditioning, the environment in the North Hall felt a bit on the warmer side. Tension was palpable on the faces of senior Professors who had gathered on the invitation of an urgent meeting with the Vice Chancellor. No one was sure of the agenda of the meeting. The murmur of the hushed conversation stopped when the Vice Chancellor walked in through the ornately decorated twelve feet door followed by an entourage with the Registrar in attendance. The Vice Chancellor, a petite woman with stylishly kempt hairs, walked purposely in a manner which displayed a firm resolve for most difficult decisions. The audience, on cue, stood up and waited for the Vice Chancellor to take her seat.

Displaying a dry smile, the Vice Chancellor started the meeting. She dwelt upon the need of the University to establish a connect with its alumni. In the fifteen minutes of the monologue, she outlined her plan to organize an Alumni meet which had not been held since the last decade. Some of the Professors attending the meeting silently heaved a sigh of relief, usually such emergent meetings were a prelude to harsher outpourings from the Vice Chancellor. The discussion that followed the opening speech of the Vice Chancellor focused on the prospective date of the Alumni meet, the preparations to be done, financial implications, and how the responsibility will be shared. The Registrar, probably, already alerted by the Vice Chancellor, had come prepared with the prospective committees. He announced the various committees while everyone made a note of the same. Prof Alok Srivastava listened intently; he found his name featured in the registration committee. The meeting continued for another thirty minutes. The Registrar, under the watchful eyes of the Vice Chancellor, detailed the expectations from each of the committees. Alok took note that his committee was responsible for making a Google form for registration and then making a list of registered delegates.

Within a week of this meeting, work had started in earnest. Alok had designed a form which sought the details of the registering delegate, the form was put on the University website and other social media platforms. It was within ten days that the filled forms started coming back. Prof Alok Srivastava and his team created an algorithm to store the information so that it could be retrieved easily. As time passed, the number of registrations increased, and the team had to put extra effort to organize the deluge of registration data. Prof Alok Srivastava had taken upon himself the task of vetting each form and then categorizing it to the year of passing out of the registering alumni.

While Prof Alok leafed through the forms, he sometimes stumbled upon a batchmate who had passed out from the University in 1985, in the same year when he himself had completed M.Sc. from the University. Looking at these forms along with the basic information and the current photograph would bring a silent smile on his face. For some minutes his thoughts would wander to his student days when he had spent joyous moments with these friends. He realized that a long period of thirty years had passed since he had completed his M Sc degree. Strange are the ways how our mind works, Alok realized that invariably his mind recollected the younger version of the face while the photograph displayed the same face which had actually aged thirty years.

It was a dull Wednesday afternoon, Prof Alok Srivastava looked bored while he sorted each registration form. He glanced at his watch and realized he had been working continuously for the last four hours, he felt he needed a coffee. Glancing at the computer screen Alok noticed that there were just a few forms left. He decided to finish the remaining forms before he took a coffee break. It was the second last form when suddenly his eyes stopped at the mention of pass out year 1985. Alok looked at the form carefully, the name Rashmi Sahni seemed familiar. His eyes focused on the photograph affixed with this identity. Alok felt his heart had missed a beat. The photograph unmistakenly reminded him of Rashmi Sahni, his classmate thirty years back. He peered at the photograph for an extended moment. It was at this point of time that Alok’s mind drifted, he lost count of time. The memories of Rashmi came flooding. As Alok day-dreamed looking at the fifty-year-old female photograph, his mind flashed the image of a twenty-year-old, infectiously beautiful girl, with whom he had spent several summer afternoons sitting idlily, joking and chatting.

Alok remembered the first day when he had mustered courage to talk to Rashmi. He remembered the grin on Rashmi’s face while he stammered to say the first few sentences. Alok’s mind catapulted his thoughts to the day when he deliberately sat next to Rashmi in the practical class and how in between the experiment he had brushed shoulder with her. Ostensibly it was unintentional but only Alok knew that he had deliberately come too close to Rashmi. Alok’s mind took his day-dreaming story to the day when Rashmi didn’t object to sit on the pillion seat of his Bajaj Super scooter while he drove her back to her home on that rainy day when finding a rikshaw became an ordeal. Was it a noise or just a break in the flow of neurotransmitters in his brain that Alok suddenly woke up from his day-dreaming session. He looked at his mobile and realized that an hour had passed while he was looking at the registration form of Rashmi Sahni. His mobile phone displayed three missed calls, all from his wife. Alok finished the last form and closed his computer.

That evening while Alok drove back to his home, he didn’t realize that the weather had become less hot, and it was cloudy. His mind was still under the influence of thoughts which revolved with the memories of Rashmi. Alok realized that thirty years is a long time, but his mind had vivid memories of the time spent with his onetime muse. On his way back home Alok’s thoughts were broken when he got a call from his wife reminding him to stop at the general merchant shop and bring the sundry items the list of which she had sent to him on whatsapp. The reality of life made Alok lose track of Rashmi.

The following days were more hectic. The date of the Alumni meet was approaching, and Prof Alok Srivastava found himself loaded with work. There had been more than a thousand registrations and every registration had to be documented and acknowledged. The run up to the function became an arduous task. Days melted into nights without any buffer period. Alok became busier. It was on a sultry afternoon when the Registration committee was sorting out identity cards that Alok chanced upon the Identity card of Rashmi Sahni. Alok’s mind drifted to matters beyond Alumni meet. Holding Rashmi’s card in hand, Alok felt he was holding a few moments of memory which went back thirty years. Alok remembered that Rashmi was always the most vocal student in class. Her ebullience was unmatched. Alok remembered that he felt so much joy when Rashmi would engage in conversation and unabashedly laugh at his jokes.

A large number of delegates had sent emails acknowledging their presence in the Alumni meet. Alok painstakingly went through all such mails and made a list for passing the same to the seating committee. Despite the huge task at hand, his mind was continuously seeking to see the name of Rashi Sahni. After an hour of scrolling and documenting, Alok did find a mail from Rashmi Sahni. She too had acknowledged that she would come to the Alumni meet.

The open-air theatre was exquisitely dressed like a bride. The last-minute glitches had been sorted out. Some of the guests had come early to visit the campus and relive their memories. The evening had just begun, and the live band was in attendance. Despite a large stage with gorgeous lights, each flank of the open-air theatre had a large display screen. The whole atmosphere exuded a sense of grandeur. Senior Professors were escorting guests to their designated seats.

While the function was about to begin, Prof Alok stood at a tri section giving himself a vantage point from where he had a direct view of both the entrance. Ostensibly marshalling volunteers to attend to the needs of invitees, his eyes continuously scanned the guests for Rashmi Sahni. The Chief Guest had arrived, and the ceremonial lamps had been lighted. The programme had already begun. Alok cautiously divided his gaze between the happenings on the stage and the trickle of invites through the two gates. It was well past thirty minutes from the start of the programme that Alok’s eyes finally saw the guest he was waiting for. From the far gate a lady had walked in wearing a dark maroon dress, she looked hesitant before someone helped her to the seating arrangement. Alok’s eyes dilated for a moment while his adrenal glands went into overdrive secreting adrenaline which made his heart break into a canter. While Alok’s physiology was making his internal system go crazy, his eyes caught a sight which made his emotions go limp. The lady, unmistakably Rashmi Sahni, had walked inside holding hands of a teenage boy.

It is an evolutionary male instinct that it quietly accepts male flirtatious behaviour but doesn’t accept the same from a female. Despite the fact that Alok was happily married and had a boy, his mind found it unacceptable to see his one-time muse in a marital bond. Alok’s mind started giving Alok confusing signals. A part of his brain tried to reason that Rashmi Sahni was also happily married as he was. Her husband must be as much possessive of her as he was for his wife. A different part of the brain implored Alok to approach Rashmi and at least relive a few moments of the past. Perhaps, maybe, she too may be looking forward to this reunion.

On the stage, the musical evening was reaching its crescendo. The sitar recital of Ustad Jamshed Khan was weaving magic with the ever so mesmerizing raag darbari. While the flow of melody on stage was without any glitch, Alok’s mind was in doldrums. He had found a place which effectively concealed him from the view from where Rashmi was sitting while he could see that spot through an opening. While Alok’s mind was deciphering a cacophony of diverse thoughts, the performance on the stage had changed. A singer was in the midst of a medley of old songs of Mukesh.

Alok could clearly see Rashmi’s face while she sat at a distance in the far corner of the open-air theatre. The teenage boy sitting next to Rashmi, maybe ten or eleven years old, fidgeted with the chair and looked disinterested with the proceedings. Rashmi looked resplendent in that maroon dress. Fixing his gaze on Rashmi, Alok’s mind tried to visualize Rashmi’s husband. From a distance she looked happy and contended. The insane thought that Rashmi would now be laughing at someone else’s jokes was rather depressing. Alok stood at his place oblivious of the singer on the stage singing the old Mukesh song ‘jinhe hum bhulna chahen wo aksar yaad aate hain’. A fresh instinct again coaxed Alok to go to Rashmi and talk to her. An hour had passed and still Alok could not convince himself whether it was proper for him to walk to Rashmi. Thirty years is a very long time, what if she didn’t recognize him?. The performance on the stage had changed, a group of performers were recreating one of Birju Maharaj’s classical creations.

The show was nearing its end, a few guests having sensed the beginning of the end were leaving their seats and walking towards the gates. On the stage the Vice Chancellor was presenting mementoes to a few selected performers. It was in between these moments that Alok lost sight of Rashmi for a few minutes. When he again looked towards Rashmi, he realized the two seats were empty. Alok’s heart again skipped a beat. Strange are the ways by which human mind dictates our emotions. Just a few minutes back, Alok had more or less convinced himself of not meeting Rashmi and now that she was gone, he felt a loss. His heart felt a melancholy which made him lose interest in the function. A thin film of tear coated his eyes. Alok had lost his muse.

The few days that followed the Alumni meet were also hectic. A lot of work was needed to clear all the files. With the passing of a few more days, the Alumni meet also became a story in the decorated history of the University. Teaching resumed and the functioning of the University went back to normal. The image of Rashmi Sahni sitting on the far corner during the Alumni function also became a distant memory for Prof Alok Srivastava. Initially for a few days after the Alumni meet, he felt depressed and forlorn, but time is a big healer. Alok returned to his teaching routine and his passion of writing short stories.

Days extended into weeks and weeks made way for months. The routine of University life never seemed a burden to Alok. He would often come to University on holidays. The University became his first home.

The remaining years of service were extremely enjoyable for Alok, but time flew fast. Within a few years Alok found himself looking face-to-face at his retirement. Despite his latent desire to slow the passage of time, the moment of truth arrived, and Prof Alok Srivastava’s name found a place on the honour board of the Department where he had worked for the past thirty-five years.

Retired life is always a challenge. The relaxed daily routine which looked so tempting while he was in active service, now became a bane for Alok. With no permanent audience of students and research scholars, his interest in writing short stories also waned. Within a few months after retirement Alok started feeling the vagaries of life beyond sixty-five. His knees felt swollen, and he started losing excitement in life. A distant cousin counselled him to start morning walk and create a like-minded friend circle. Alok took this advice seriously and from the next day started going to the Alfred park, a place where many such retired souls came not only to walk but to find solace and company.

A few months had passed since Alok had started his morning routine and he felt better. In the last few months, he had made a friend circle of old people who connected with each other by sharing the common denominator of being retired personnel. In the few months Alok understood that retirement brings with it some common problems. With children increasingly immersed in their own pursuits, the same home which a decade back looked so enticing now feels like a prison.

Every morning Alok looked forward to meeting with new-found friends. Conversation between the group always had the same set of topics. Health problems, family disputes, children going abroad, and maturing investments were the common topics in which each member had a story to tell. The group of friends had found a secluded spot at the back end of the park where they would spend about an hour before dispersing. This morning routine was repeated each day.

Alok and other friends realized that Adesh ji, a retired banker and a member of this close friend group, who lived in the nearby colony was not coming for a few days. Someone interjected that Adesh ji was saying that he was going out of station for a few days, maybe this was the reason of his absence. It was just after two weeks that Adesh ji made his appearance on a Monday morning. Alok noticed Adesh ji was wearing a cap, a close look revealed that this cap was a cover to his shaved head. While Adesh ji was taking his seat, Alok enquired whether all was well.

Adesh, taking his time, removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his shaved head. In a voice which was more of a sigh he told the group that his cousin sister who lived with him had expired and due to the religious formalities post cremation, he did not get time to come to the park for the past two weeks. The information of a death is always a painful moment; however, it was even more apparent in this group where each member was leading a retired life and silently waiting for the inevitable moment where he too would pass into history. A silence prevailed within the group. It was Alok who broke the silence. As a courtesy statement, Alok asked Adesh ji how old his cousin was. Still wiping his forehead, Adesh ji replied that his cousin Rashmi was sixty-six years old. After retirement from a government job, she lived with him. The name Rashmi and the age of sixty-six rang a bell in Alok’s mind. He became interested, he asked whether the full name of his cousin was Rashmi Sahni? Adesh ji looked at Alok with a slightly bewildered stare, he replied ‘yes’. Without any apparent instigation, Adesh ji continued that his sister had after retirement chose to stay with him because she had no real siblings.

Alok lost conversation with the group where the topic had changed to the last evening IPL match. He started to connect the dots of the story of Adesh ji’s cousin sister which had just unfolded in front of him. The missing link was that Alok’s mind told him that Rashmi Sahni was married as she had come to the Alumni meet with her son. Alok found a gap in the conversation that was taking place and asked Adesh ji whether his cousin was married. Without any emphasis, Adesh continued that his cousin did not marry. During her marriageable age there were several proposals, but she rejected all suitors. In a tone that was both affectionate and sad, he continued that his sister was somewhat weird. When the family coaxed her to get married, she would always say that she would marry someone who would make her laugh. Alok’s mind started thinking of the times spent with Rashmi almost forty-five years back and how she would laugh at his jokes. Adesh ji continued with his monologue, he told Alok that Rashmi loved children and for this reason she had adopted his own son since the time he was born. Adesh looked towards Alok and with a smile told him that coincidently Rashmi had named his son as ‘Alok’.

It was time for the group to break. Everyone took their separate route. Alok reached home with a mind full of memories. Today he cursed himself why he did not meet Rashmi Sahni when she had come for the Alumni function. He had missed a golden chance to make her laugh!