The Rendezvous

My life had always been hectic and demanding.

Waking up early in the morning to get a head start on the day, spend most of the time juggling work and personal obligations, attending meetings, replying to emails, making phone calls, running errands, and trying to complete tasks before deadlines. The jam-packed schedules had left me with very little time for leisure, I hardly remember taking any break to priotize my mental and physical health or my family.

I never knew when a strong wall was built between my wife and me, when our daughter grew up. . . . there were ofcourse daily squabbles, however. . . . .

And then one day Maitreyi came over to me and said she wanted a divorce! At first, I couldn't understand, later my emotions turned into anger and I burst out at her for the first time ever in my life. . . . . the contretemps led to bitter dissension, which led both of us fall apart.

Maitreyi changed city and the custody of our daughter was given to her, she was just three then. . . . . . Maitreyi demanded no money, no alumini, she took the job of a teacher and went afar with our daughter bearing Dristi's responsibility, I could never trace them out.

Years passed by, my extensive busy life grew busier as promotions came in and I was heading a top Export & Import Company, I had the same time schedule, waking up early in the morning to get a head start on the day, juggling through my work and other obligations, attending meetings, replying to emails, making phone calls, running errands. . . . . . . . .

Life was monotonous for me. . . . . the only companion I talked out my heart to was my driver.

One day, while returning home from office, Sarvodaya asked me, 'Sahib, can I turn on the radio?', I nodded to a 'yes', he

switched the FM to some old melodious songs. . . . . . the busy city bustling and vibrant with a lot of energy and activities, streets filled with people rushing to their destinations, honking cars, sounds of vendors calling out their wares, skyscrapers reached towards the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling sidewalks below in the evening sun. The air filled with the scent of food from street vendors, exhaust from cars, and the occasional whiff of flower shops, the world started to feel lively around me suddenly. . . . .

The phobia of a clock ticking and me going out of deadline surrounded me, every bustling around, the life and energy seemed to make cacophony in my ears, I rolled up the windows and asked Sarvodaya to turn on the ac. He looked me through the rear view mirror, 'Sahib, can I say something?'

I was in no mood still nodded a 'yes', 'Why don't you take a break Sahib?' He blurted in one breath.

I looked at him through the rear view mirror, the droplets of sweat still clinging to my forehead, heavy breath, the noises still beating drums on my head, the locks of gray hung over my eyes which were deep in to the hollow.

'It's been years Sahib, madam has left you, you have always neglected your health. . . . . 'Sarvodaya muttered.

With heavy voice I hushed him. . . . . but I knew it was all taking a toll on my health.

I had no time to think instead asked him to speed through, I wanted to reach home, the tiresome day had broken me down, I had a strong headache.

Sarvodaya pulled over the car as quickly as possible and suddenly screeched to a halt at the red light next to a diversion. . . . . . dusk has settled down and the street lights litted the roads in glamorous celebration.

My mind had been drifting away somewhere. . . . . . the flickering red light changed to Yellow, the timer beside it ticked. . . . . a stop watched started ticking in my brain as if in a moment the network of nerves and neuron inside would unfurl and break through in a moment, a strange feeling wrapped me into its deadly arms, I felt unconscious. . . . . .

'Sahib, Sahib. . . . are you okay?', when I regained senses I saw Sarvodaya seated beside me with a bottle of water, sprinkling on my face to awaken me, 'Don't worry, take me back home and call for Doctor Sinha. 'I ordered Sarvodaya.

The blood pressure had shot high up, Dr. Sinha pushed through an injection, he prescribed me bed rest and deep sleep without the sleeping pills.

A deep sleep! which was lost many years back. . . . . .

I. . . I can never. . forget that night. . . . . !

I became restless at the thought of it. . . . . .

'Sahib. . . . ', Sarvodaya called for me, the servant had brought in my meal. . . . .

I was not eager to have anything, but gave up.

I have reached the zenith in my professional career, I had many peers, surrounded by high class colleagues, officers, and eminent people, but in my personal life, I was alone. . . . . lonely. . . . . and this loneliness sometimes spread its dark wings taking me in its clutches. . . . . . I haven't slept for years, insomnia had empowered me leading to intake of sleeping pills.

I was young, fearless, adamant, when Maitreyi left , I was heartbroken, but never the less I drowned myself more into work. . . . . and in one such evening , late winter night, the city was almost half asleep, in those days the city was not so busy, I was returning home from office driving the car myself, near an under construction road I took the diversion, how the overspeeding car skidded and rushed through the barricades, unknowingly that a lady was crossing the road, I could not understand, my car did not stop, the flick didn't let me think and I ran down on her. . . . . . . her body flipped to the other side of the road, from the car I saw the body trembling in pain, a shrill shriek ran down the chills through my veins. . . . . I didn't halt the car. . . . . my hands wet in sweat slipped from the steering, the brakes seems not to listen to my orders, with trembling hands I pulled the gears and sped off. . . . . the night was dreadfull, no one was in sight to notice the accident, who was that woman, what had she been doing there, was she alive. . . . I could get no answers to it, the case came up in news papers but I was scared to see it, the driver who hit the woman was never found. . . . .

I have never thought of looking for the woman but when I remembered the scene I cannot control, I had seen the trembling body through the rear view mirror, it was not possible for her to be alive!

As prescribed by Dr. Sinha, I sorted to take a break.

Horsley Hills, a picturesque meadow surrounded by rolling hills, with gentle breezes blowing through the trees. The sound of a nearby stream flowing peacefully, and the chirping of birds in the air, the sun shining down, warming the skin, and the scent of fresh wildflowers filled the air. An inevitable calmness and sereneness embraced me. . . . . I was looking for such peace, whatever happened in my life, I never wanted to recall them.

Sarvodaya was with me, in summers the temperature was around 20°C, the lush green meadows across the window of the guest house gave me thrills, I really needed this break, away from the busy life, hustled city, honking vehicles, streets full of noises and motion. . . . . . daily targets, calls emails, schedules, everything. . . . . .

At evening, I strictly instructed Sarvodaya no to follow me, he had always been a faithful servant for years, he followed every instructions that the doctor prescribed for me, he was just not my driver, he was my only companion. . . . . . but I wanted some time for myself and so crossed through the beautiful garden of the guest house towards the road sideways that led to the woods, after walking for a little while enjoying the beauty of nature, the soft patches of grass felt like carpets, the swaying blades often caressed my feet, I came across a Cafe.

In a small clearing, a tourist Cafe stood with its door open to its guest. Through the glass windows I could see few customers awaiting their orders, a couple talking to each other silently, a busy man scribbling something on a piece of paper, a young boy outside the Cafe with paintbrush in his hand trying to frame the nature on his white canvas. The name read 'The Rendezvous Cafè'.

The Cafe seemed quite calm.

I entered through the door, the smell of the freshly brewing coffee hit my nose, a waiter greeted me and led me to a chair in the corner, he took my order and went off. . . . . .

I noticed the visitors of the Cafe, everyone busy in their own world. . . . . when suddenly I noticed a girl on the extreme corner. . . . a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, she looked elsewhere through the window. . . as if deep in thoughts, chewing the end of her pen unknowingly. . . . . suddenly she sprang up and the sat down again to jot down something in her diary.

Something in her interested me. . . . . . however she raised in a while and left. . . . . . as she walked out of the Cafe, she seemed touch and feel every chair, the door knobs, the handles. . . . . .

I finished my coffee and walked back to the guest house.

Next evening, I went for a walk again and dropped by the same Cafe.

The waiter took the order and as I went to occupy my corner seat I found the same girl seated at the same place just like the day before, she was jotting down something in her diary. . . . .

I became a daily visitor at the Cafe and started watching the people who gathered there, the only common visitors were the girl and I , one day I decided to introduced myself to her. . . . . . she smile and said a small, "Hello".

Our first conversation was not quite interesting, but slowly and gradually it turned out to be one.

I was happy to talk to someone who was least bothered about who I was and what I did for my living, we were strangers but over a period of time we knew each other. . . . we shared our prospects about life, about the beautiful place we were at. She was beautiful around nineteen, her dresses were generally simple, soft and luxurious, a delicate gold chain and stud earrings added a touch of elegance to her attire, the loose tendrils of her hair framing her face looked awesome.

When she talked a thrill ran within her and her big beautiful eyes sparkled, she talked about Horsley Hills, about the people, about the places she visited , about people she met, the music she played, but all that she could feel, she could hear, but she could not see!

She was blind, not by birth but by an accident. . . . . which she could not recall much and I would not like to give her a pain memorizing the past.

Despite her blindness, she exuded confidence and grace, moved with poise and purpose as she navigated the world around her.

Our rendezvous turned out to be a habit, a custom, I felt good with a companion like her and I felt it was likewise.

Our talks sometime surpassed the time and often until late in the evening. An unconditional faith and friendship grew between us.

I felt like sharing everything with her. . . . . she would only visit the Cafe I had invited her several times at our guest house but she did never came down.

The only place of rendezvous was the Cafe!

With passage of time, I had shared everything with her about my life over cups of coffees. She would always be before me at the Cafe everyday. . . . . .

Sarvodaya had noticed my unusual behavior, I was happy, but he raised his eye brows and said one day, 'Sahib, you are growing so lean!', I smiled at him, "But I am happy and contended snd have good night sleep!'

I had now understood what happiness was, I was at peace.

Then one evening, I thought of sharing my darkest truth with her, I was ready to confess, I was seeking out for a time and chance to start the conversation. . . . . . . when I said, "I have something to share with you!"

The girl stared at the roof relentlessly.

I started to reveal and I spoke on and on. . . . . finally I stopped howling and covering my face to hid my embarrassments.

She calmly questioned, "Why didn't you help her?"

"I was scared!"I uttered

"Are you not scared now?"she asked

"No, I think I can trust you and I feel at peace sharing everything with you"I said.

She stood up, the steaming coffee was not drank, I have not noticed, she always orders a coffee for me and herself but her coffee remains as is. . . . . .

She stepped back to leave, when I asked confusingly, "What do you think about me now?"

In a calm, cold voice she replied, "I think about you the same I thought about you 16 years ago. My mom was not wrong, you are a cold blooded murderer and you will pay for whatever you have done dad!"

She walked away. . . . . leaving me confound!

All of a sudden my throat started aching, as if I have engulfed several needles, the pain triggered an intense head ache, the blood gushed through the arteries and veins at fast pace, my heart started pounded, as if a 1000 horses galloped across my chest. . . . . . I was loosing my senses, the world around me swirled, everything in and around went dark. . . . . I heard the waiters shouting, "Are you okay Sir. . . . . . call for the ambulance. . . . "I collapsed.

The death of Mr. R. N Verma was published on the very first page, the cause of death was normal cardiac arrest however, this was not natural, excessive intake of sleeping pills every evening led to cardiac arrest. . . . . . only one knew the answer!