I Didn't Fall In Love

By the time I was preparing for the 8th Semester, the last examinations, I was lucky that I didn't have any back papers of earlier semesters. I had to concentrate on those 6 papers of the final semester only. Like rest, I appeared the last paper of my engineering study and took a return bus ride for Bhubaneswar, in Esabela for the last time. The details of which I don't recall at all. Might the obscure future outside UCE campus had its own toll.

 

Passing each day was a bit tougher than I presumed earlier. Often I recalled how our principal then, Professor Shroff in a class, during the final semester, questioned about a number written on the edge of the blackboard, along with other details of the class and the gentleman had noticed that it was counting down every day.

 

Someone from the class responded, "Sir, its counter for remaining days in UCE."

 

The great man sniffed and chuckled, "Now counting down ... after leaving ... will count up."

 

The longest stay at home, since I left for Burla, was making some revelations that I was unaware of. Each day of stay without any plans for future unearthed the toll of financial burden, on my family members, in supporting my education.

 

In addition, a fear of getting a back paper in one paper might be Optical Fiber, where most of us did badly, caused an intermittent rush of chill in the spine and a number of sleepless nights.

 

While waiting for the final result, each bad performance in a written exam of PSU job made me be a bit more resolute to prepare for subsequent. I started reading newspapers aloud as advised in a spoken English class, I joined then for improvement of spoken English and many other things in preparation for job battle.

 

News of a friend or other being selected for some PSU, during small meetings of friends at exam centers, made me more resolute to prepare harder.

 

More than my failure, the envy of a friend’s success was a major driving force in making me sink into the chair by the study table for hours together after a gap of almost 4 years that too with table lamp for late-night studies as was sharing the room with father.

 

This instrument was lying virgin, occupying a space for more than four years, inside the steel trunk, that was fortunate to make it's only to and journey to UCE Burla. There must be few more antique articles still lying virgin in that box to be discovered some another day, for sure.

 

But the unruly days of UCE had its own bearings. I needed tea at intervals, prepared by my mother or younger sisters, to be able to carry study at stretch.

 

Each attempt of an unsuccessful written exam dragged me to the asylum of the All-Mighty. I started frequenting a Shiv Temple that was inside the OMC campus.

 

I managed to have little Cricket playing at evening up to the ringing of temple bells for the evening prayer. After washing clean from a near-by hand pump along with few friends, joining for evening prayer from the outside boundary became a daily itinerary.

 

One evening while strolling from cricket ground to the hand pump, I noticed a beautiful girl with few of her companions rushing into the temple that inspired me to step inside the temple boundary for the first time to attend the evening prayer.

 

It didn’t matter if she noticed me or not but I was more than happy to watch her without a blink of an eye with folded hands, in the adulation of the Allmighty, from a distance.

 

After the prayer, the girl offered for carrying the pious flame to the rest of the gathering. I was anxiously waiting for her to reach me, carrying the pious blazing lamp.

 

Alas! The pious flame went off two-three rows ahead of me.

 

The very next day I joined the prayer little early and after the ringing of bells and beating of drums subsided was nervously waiting for my turn to seek blessings of the pious blazing flame.

 

Salwar-kameez clad girl, covering her head with the long scarf, holding the brass lamp with pious flame blazing aloft, inched towards me.

 

The scarf covered the whole of her face but the reflection of blazing flame from her smooth skin, permeating from the long veil mesmerized me. Her every step towards me, holding the lamp with her left, covering with the right, protecting from the evening breeze, made rushing of blood from my heart, almost audible outside and it got louder with every inch bridging between us.

 

Alas! A bunch of unruly evening zephyr blew the dancing pious flame off. There were few road lamps but the temple campus had enough darkness that made my numbness unnoticed by the crowd that dispersed in another five minutes leaving me in a complete trance.

 

The next day, I ensured entry to the temple a little earlier. As usual, the beating of drums, blowing of conch and ringing of bells reached its pinnacle followed by the movement of pious blazing flame from one devoted to another. Placing both palms around the flame and then moving them to touch the side of the head, in reverence of the Almighty and seeking heavenly blessings by absorbing a little heat accumulated from the flame continued till the flame reached me.

 

Only the blazing flame was separating us but I could hardly see her face as my eyes were shut, in fear of earning a curse of Lord Shiva for not doing the rituals, I did it perfectly as 'being taught since childhood. As she was about to recede a bunch of evening air blew the long veal. With abated heart, I noticed her peeping at me at the corner of her eyes. Her dancing eyebrows and drooping eyelids told a million words that I didn’t understand at all. I stood there transfixed till all the devotees vacated the temple arena.

 

This continued for three-four evenings more. I tried to read the language of our meeting eyes, her dropping of eyelids and dancing of eyebrow till my missing the mass prayer one evening due to certain other engagement.

 

That evening, all my attempts made me reach the temple bit late and few adults were sitting around the priest, reading some verses from a holy book. I couldn’t sleep that night in anticipation of the next session of evening prayer.

 

In fear of a probably drained battery of the struck needles of the wall clock had to check my wristwatch, quite often. As if the time stalled for me. The evening cricket didn’t seem that interesting and I wanted to push the evening sun behind the western horizon to have early dusk for the start of the evening rituals of the temple.

 

A mere 24 hours seemed like a thousand years. I was lucky that an early finish of the cricket match enabled me to be in the temple with all preparedness for the evening prayer.

 

From the gathered devotees few were on to the bells, one on conch and another devotee a drum. The intensity of the recital of mantras by the priest, ringing of bells, blowing of the conch, beating of drum and clapping of the gathering didn’t disturb my searing eyes glued at the girl, with her face covered with the veil and hands folded in the adulation of Lord Shiva.

 

The priest swayed violently the blazing lamp in praise of Lord Shiva with sudden jerks that were creating an illusion as there were multiple blazing flames in the air. Often it appeared as if the flame getting detached and left behind the dancing lamp with its blazing flame. The swaying of the lamp and the blazing flame became more sporadic in tune with the intensity of the ringing bells, blowing the conch, beating of drums and clapping and reached its zenith.

 

The priest raised both his palm up making the fluttering blazing flame almost touching the roof as the evening's final offering and turned back.

 

The girl, with a veil drawn over her face, stepped in and extended her palm for the lamp with pious blazing flame. She moved from one person to other, crossed a row, crossed another and next one, till she was right there in front me.

 

I dared to peep into the veil, jumping over the blazing flame, separating us, that was dancing to the tune of the evening breeze.

 

My palms, touching a flame, passed my head till I touched my ears. A little heat from the pious flame was transferred as the blessing of the All-Mighty. 

 

I didn’t dare to tell that, I wanted more than the language of dancing of eyebrow, dropping of eyelids and a generous grin that the pious blazing flame drifted away from me.

 

I stayed back at one dark corner until many left the temple. My eyes were following the girl without a blink. I followed her swiftly. On the way back home I tried to outpace her quite a few times but didn’t dare to. In another ten minutes, I was at home.

 

This continued for another three-four days till one evening that a sudden rain and breeze blown the blazing flame, well before reaching me.

 

With thinning of the gathering, the girl put on an umbrella and started walking away from the temple.

 

Drenched in the rain, not that severe, I followed the girl. I was sure, she knew that I was following her without an umbrella. Thought brooded inside about an invitation from her as she had spoken a lot for the last few weeks except one evening, the language of dancing eyebrows, drooping eyelids, a generous grin that I didn't conceive at all.

 

I could not believe my eyes. At some couple of meters ahead, under an over-head roadside sodium vapor lamp, she stopped and turned back at me. Without deciding, to run or to walk up to, with a pounding heart I strolled up to the lamp post and saw her extended right hand with an index pointing at something in the middle of the road.

 

A giant scorpion with its two claws wide open and tail arched back up to its head was waiting for its night’s prey, made a shiver run from my tip to toe through the spine. My wide-open mouth and halt to catatonia made her smile at one corner of lips before she took her next step.

 

In no time I realized that the girl deserves a big thank. I ran up to her that made her to mutter, “Needn't to say ... Thank You...” still walking.

 

As we walked a few more steps, she continued, "Rather ... ... thanks a lot for your counseling your friend Satya."

 

Before I could make out how come Satya has a role to play in between us, she continued, "After months break-up, we could reconcile and sorted out our differences. He told me about your counseling him with the definition of love ... Sacrifice."

 

"I sacrificed my anger and ego. Not only him but also I feel blessed for him to have a friend like you. This is what I am trying to tell you for last 15 days ... ... almost."

 

We continued a few more steps, her chattering and 'am dead numb.

 

We walked together silently, she under umbrella and me completely dunked as it started raining little more heavily than. I didn’t dare to read if her eyebrow danced, eye-lids dropped or had a grin on her lips.

 

The chilly raindrops were not enough to take away the little heat that rolled from the bottom of my eyes to the chin. I am still in doubt if those tears were of happiness or of pain.

 

Knocking, made my mother open the door shouting, “Dry yourself immediately, else you will catch a cold that will stop you attending evening prayer tomorrow.”

 

Wiping my tears, I responded, “Your God will not punish me if I happen to miss an evening prayer, by-chance. You know, my words made few people happy. I am serving His purpose only. Ha...Ha...Ha...”

[“Falling in Love” is the most beautiful feeling and teaches unique lessons of life. A beautiful heart filled with a lot of love can never lead to an obnoxious acid attack. My God be with all these beautiful girls!]