How Long Will I Love You - Rawwn

 

A metro heading towards Huda City Centre swallowed the crowd through the gates of the train. By the time it departed, sprinters of all ages exuded their lives and rushed to make it to the nearest coach. In a couple of minutes, the scene turned out to be identical, with different faces this time. The views on the other platforms were symmetrical.

Misty fought her way through the mess and entered from gate 19. A man snoring with his head leaned on the glass of the last seat was alarmed, as she approached him. He vacated the Ladies seat as his eyes dropped on her huge black YAMAHA bag.

It always made her wonder how some people managed to read in a metro. At times, there’s hardly any air to breathe. There are people with the audacity to play Facebook videos on full volume, people who don’t mind sitting on the floor, people giggling, fighting and blatantly judging other passengers. There are people of all kinds. It is public transport after all.

 Looking at the time, she hushed. She might be two hours early, but definitely not late. In a minute, a good chunk of the crowd went off and on the train at Rajiv Chowk. Every time someone walked past her, her arm automatically went around her keyboard, as if she had been protecting someone from getting hurt.

A man stomped on her foot as the train jerked before picking up speed.

‘Shit! I’m so sorry, ma’am. Sorry.’ Rish said instinctively, before inspecting whom he had hurt.

She raised her head, and narrowed her eyes to look at him. Words she would have said as a response never left her mouth.

He went on blabbering his apologies until she whispered his name. It felt like an unexpected phone call from a long-lost friend in the waking hours of a weekend. What followed was disbelief in awkward moments of silence. Shock was evident on her face whereas he remained calm. This was probably because he was open to the probability of bumping into his ex one fine day when he'll least expect it to happen. A few people who had nothing to do but to reach their destination, stoppeed to inspect the scene. They were curious to see this development.

Rish and Misty had been school-sweethearts. Their affair began when she commenced her high-school, and he passed his with flying colours just to opt science for 10+2 and fail later on in his first-year final exams.

Failing exams, losing the soft-spot teachers had for him, and waiting six months for Misty to accept his proposal, made his mental state worse. For like any other coward, he had been blaming her for most of it.

He took a couple of steps here and there, an old coping mech. Looked around. Bit his lips, salivated them, flicking his tongue and looking at her keyboard. Memories triggered once again.

They both first met during the annual day choir formation. He was the lead vocal and she along with four others backed him. Soon they started talking and Rish drew an inclination towards literature while simultaneously letting go of his desire for music. It naturally happens. Call it an effect of love or whatever but some things that define you suddenly don't spark that same passion in your soul that they once did.

He hardly knew what modern love looked like and so, he wrote her poems and love letters sticking to the old-school basics. Misty, on the other hand, failed to express her feelings. Then came the coronavirus and this dynamic took a turn for the worse.

A few stations passed and Rish was lucky enough to get a seat. Amid constant hustle bustle there were announcements in the metro and nobody really paid any attention to them apart from hyperactive mid-aged adults.

Next to their seats, a kid cupped her hands around her temples and placed her face on the glass. Enduring view of a beautiful evening in a ruthless city driven by passion and rage. 

‘How have you been?’ he finally asked, breaking the silence.

‘Much better.'

`Good to know,' he replied hesitantly, not intending to sound strange.

He assumed that she had no particular interest in talking to him. But 12 years went by. It was a long time. Wasn’t she curious to know what he was doing in life? Because, he certainly was.

Although their love was pure, the spark had gone. They tried their best to survive the monotony that comes after two people have nothing new to talk about but their day. Communication became hard and when she began to be expressive and put in efforts, he felt like he ran out of love.

After almost three years, they broke up. He went to college and hardly knew how she dealt with her first heartbreak. For the next six months or so they talked once in a while until she confessed that being in touch made it hard for her to move on. That was 12 years ago. That was another story.

‘Do you have any plans for the night?’ she enquired suddenly when Rish was about to leave at Green Park station.

‘Nothing specific. You say.’

‘I have a performance at GARFS Café. Hauz Khas, ever been there?’

‘Yeah, but it's been a long long time.’ he replied, looking at her Casio with repressed bitterness. He might have been a musical genius too if, if he hadn’t been swayed towards literature. He doesn’t repent being a writer, but there’s always the question “how different my life could have been if I made a different choice?” lurking at nights full of haunting solitariness.

They got off at Hauz Khas. To Rish, Hauz Khas station felt like an intersection of New York and New Delhi. The versatile outbursting crowd stemmed his urge to write a sci-fi story on something similar. They took the escalator, walked past Hamleys outlet, and the food court to exit from gate no-2. He saw a few familiar faces but did not really know what phase of his life they belonged to.

A bunch of CNG auto drivers fought among themselves to take them to Hauz Khas Village. The quarrel went on for a while. They sat in an auto together after 11 years, he recalled. The first time they did, it was when they attended a mutual friend’s birthday party. She got ready at his place. Met his mother and sister. Talked a bit and felt home. Welcomed and belonged.

The event was scheduled to begin at 8:00 p.m. and it was 6:40 p.m.

Neither of them talked on their way to Deer Park, where they sat and actually talked for an hour or so. The auto came to a halt near the park's gate. He smiled at a Snack and Tea stall owner he knew from his college days. The shop was a few steps from the park's gate. A perfect stop to have maggi and tea during monsoon. 

They entered the place and continued walking on dry leaves and took the first left turn that led towards the fountain within the park. Even though there were lot many people. They still managed to sit in solitude.

‘I’m sorry for how things turned out to be. Right person, wrong time. I guess’.

‘Not really. It was weak of me to put my faith in fate. We had a choice.’ She lashed out. For the first time that evening, he observed the similarity that still existed in her way of talking. Even her rage had an unintentional tone of mockery. He felt stupid for observing how different she looked at that moment. Her curly hair were chopped off and straightened down to her shoulders. She had multiple piercings. Her eyes were a shade of brown; his color-blind eyes couldn’t differentiate. All this time, Misty fidgeted her rings.

He thought of a decent reply, but failed to comprehend and come up with one. Instead, he asked about how she made a career in music.

‘Quick of you to assume that it’s the only thing I do. I teach at a private school too. Nine-to-five, you know.' She looked in the direction where a group of college students were filming something near the lake in front of the historical Fort and continued, 'After you left, I pursued a B.A. degree in music. You’ll be shocked to know that Papa wanted me to do so. After all, I was the runner-up in a national talent hunt show. Back in the day, everyone acted all nice and sweet after I came back to the town, even our principal.'

'You were gifted with that voice' He remarked and held his knees, getting a little more cozy.

'Gift? I practised for hours when we weren't talking. Since the day you left for better, most of my time was invested in music. It's funny how you always wanted me to be a singer and here I am, without you being part of my journey.'

'I am happy for you' Rish slowly grew uncomfortable because her tone at times contained agony. As if she had been waiting for this moment. To lash out on him. To pour the budding hate on him. To make him feel guilty of not being there for her. For making her dream of a ideal life and not being there when it all came true. 

The night sky dimmed its light and the crowd from Deer Park started to disperse towards cafés, metro stations and their homes. In some distance, "How long can I love you" by The Waterboys reverberated. Insects buzzed, and the clouds above rumbled, splitting the sky with lighting.

When he spoke again, a cigarette was stuck between her lips. She raised an eyebrow to offer him, but he refused. 

'Clean since my Masters' 

'Surprising. A frustrated writer being clean'.

'I'm doing fine, Mish. I'm not frustrated.'

'Your last novel says different'

'You read it? It's fiction' his eyes diltated. It was hard to believe she had read his work. Maybe the author's introduction was enough to kill her curiosity to what he was up to nowadays.

'Darling, Fiction is just truth sheltered with ornaments. It says a lot about you politics and philosophies either way'

'Hmm' Rish sighed and looked up to catch a drop of rain in his left eye. She remembered how once Rish asked her if rain sounds like boiling water to her as well. In years, she had not thought about it, but she was with him. She was there with him and it drizzled. Her memory would have been trash if not, at this moment, something so vague wouldn't pop up. Mish took a deep drag until smoke produced a pinching pain in her chest.

Meanwhile, Rish thought of the third lady he fell in love with who was the last one who bore his talks about her. She had a similar story where she fell out of love. They both joked about marrying each other if they were bachelors by the age of 30. She went on to pursue her masters from Abroad, and soon they lost touch after college. Since then, he just dated casually.

Kids and adults exercising without proper form in the open gym began to run as the aqueous needles descending from the sky took up speed. Misty crushed the cigarette and asked if he had an umbrella.

'Yeah I do. You wanna head towards the place?'

'Let's stay here for a while.'

'Okay. Tell me about you. How have you been?' Rish asked again. 

'What do you exactly want to know when you ask how have I been?'

'Are you seeing someone?'

'Why do you care?'

'The question of how you dealt with life bothered me all along. I don't mean to pry or invade your privacy, but the least you can do is-' 

'I did fine. I dated a couple of guys in college, but it didn't work out well. I mean, music consumed me. Furthermore, I was either emotionally unavailable or not interested in the idea of being with someone at all.' Since the beginning of their conversation, her voice finally deprived any sarcasm or bitterness. 

‘Who says it is necessary to conform to the dating stereotypes?’

‘They who give a flying shit about whatever brings spiced drama to their plates.’ Misty chuckled. She stood up, brushed her dress, and picked up her Keyboard. ‘I wish love would have been an easier business to deal with. Let’s go’

Rish unfurled his umbrella and gestured to move. They walked past the lake, looking at the Fort that disappeared as an effect of the dusky downpour. They ascended the stairs beside the open gym and took the first right turn to walk up to the lane where the cafe was. In the middle of a tattoo parlor and a thrift shop.

Throughout the street people keep inviting us and other passerby to their cafés. Some had free couple entry, some unlimited food and then there were new places with emerging stand up artists conducting a show. But they reached their destination, GARFS.

Golden light showered the place. It was a decently small cafe. With an average occupancy of fifty people at a time. Tables and cushions were spread across the floor with books stacked beside. Even board games were available. On a side of the wall, was this big mural art of a lady smoking weed. In a nutshell, the place had a psychedelic sort of ambiance. Next to the counter, was this empty space with rugs where all sorts of musical instruments were placed. From the ceiling, huge lamps too ancient if one judges them from their pattern, were hung at four corners of the room.

The owner welcomed Rish with a warm smile and instantly looked dazed to see Misty with him. Before either of them could say anything, Misty introduced herself to others and referred Rish as an old acquaintance.

She hardly paid any attention to all the people who began to greet Rish. And when she did, she thought that people must be knowing him for his recent hit drama, ‘Jack’s Play’.

The crowd began to settle in and it was almost time for her performance. She placed her keyboard on the stand and plugged it in. Moments before she hit the key and began singing, almost no one seemed alive to her. It was as if she was setting up equipment as part of her practice ritual. All alone in an empty room.

Misty endlessly performed songs for the next one hour. River flows in You followed by three of her unreleased tracks, Let Her Go by Passengers, a couple of hindi classics from the 90's and in the end How Long Can I Love You by The Waterboys.

The place echoed with claps. Apart from a couple of college guys who left the cafe abruptly in between, almost everyone remained stuck to their seats. With whispering thank yous and a generous smile, she got up from the stool and walked around a little while the owner re-addressed the fact how her presence made the night special for everyone. 

Her eyes travelled across the room but Rish was nowhere to be found. She had no idea why his absence made her feel uncomfortable. He was a no-one for her. He no longer mattered. Over a course of time you’re able to move on from the relationships that served as a part of your existence in a certain phase of your life. Yet, one thing that she was sure of was that he had been there before she began to sing the last song. They had eye contact. He had been looking at her dreamily just the way he did back in school. Someone tapped her shoulder and she shivered, hoping it to be Rish.

‘Misty it was great to have you tonight. Thanks for joining us. Let me know when you would like to have your diner.'

‘It was a pleasure.’ she replied hesitantly and continued ‘Have you seen the guy who came with me? One with short fringe and round specs in corduroy jacket?’ 

‘Rish. yeah, he left. How come you guys met earlier? I mean wasn't he supposed to see you here at the event?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Rish asked me to invite you tonight. Old friend of mine. Said he knew you before you became a singing sensation. He didn't get into details but as far as I know he came all the way here for the show.’ 

Past few hours now began to dissolve and dissipate in her memory. It made no sense at all. How could it be? Words failed to come out from her mouth. Soon the owner spoke again and left her.

‘Don’t worry. He disappears and hibernates way too often. Must be some writer's-block coping mechanism. Haha. By the way, we close by ten so you know, have something. Be our guest. We would love to serve you something special that makes the night unforgettable'