Udhampur, State of Jammu & Kashmir, India
October, 1992
Bang bang bang!!!
"Uoooodhampur!!! –Chinar Market!! Chinar Market!! Chinar Martkeett!!"
The Conductor shouted in a loud and annoying voice and banged his steel ticket stamp against his window to produce a deafening sound of an iron object against glass. He then threw open the door of the bus which hit the conductor's window with another loud 'bang.'
"Maaidam! Your stop!" The middle-aged uproarious conductor informed Veera, who stood up and pulled her suitcase from the overhead shelf. Some passengers regarded her with sleepy eyes while others at the back were still sleeping oblivious to the ruckus the conductor made at this early hour.
The day was just breaking into a new dawn. The birds had begun their chirping and the sun's early orange light had begun to filter the black of the night. As soon as Veera Malhi stepped out of the dusty bus with her suitcase, the Conductor rapped the door of the bus with his hand and the bus took off, leaving her in a cloud of gaseous exhaust and vacillation.
She placed her suitcase next to her feet, pressed her lips and looked at her watch. It read 5.12 am. She sighed and looked around herself- she was the only one at this small, dilapidated and almost inconspicuous bus stand. She stared at the big hoarding board with read 'Chinar Market' in big red block letters lit up with red neon lights. The Chinar market was closed and deserted. She saw a few men fully clad in shawls and monkey-caps cycling past her on the opposite side of the road.
Despite the early morning cool, Veera broke out in a sweat of anticipation and anxiety. She wiped her hand on her jean clad thigh and opened the cap of the water bottle she held in her other hand. She took a big swallow of water and tried to calm her self. Truth be told, she didn't feel as confident as she did when she started on her journey last evening. It wasn't that she lacked common sense on the contrary in her personal opinion; she was one of the most analytical and sensible people of her acquaintance.
According to her introspection, clearly fueled by her over thinking brain and the leisure of time on her hands during the train journey from Chandigarh to Jammu Tavi Railway Station and the eventually rickety bus ride to Udhampur, she realized that she may have been rather rash in her decision to travel to Udhampur.
Well, impetuous or not, it was too late and she was here now. She didn't go through the whole trouble travelling solo to Jammu and finally taking that God-forsaken bus ride just to stand here and second-guess herself.
That ship had sailed.
All she has to do, she reasoned with herself, trying to perch up her confidence, is to march her way from the Chinar Market's Main Gate to Nihal's house in the Officer's P. B Enclave.
She picked up her suitcase and crossed the road to walk towards the Chinar Market's Main Gate. She soon spotted the white painted concrete marker pointing in the direction of the Army Officer's P.B Enclave. She crossed the car parking area of the market and made her way down the slope where a few tall buildings stood in a cluster. As she made her way to the first of the tall buildings, she looked to her left and saw another concrete marker directing her to another set of P. B Enclave buildings.
She frowned in concentration. From her vantage point at this height, she could see another road way leading to yet another slope, downwards to a small children's park, which was in front of another cluster of buildings. She stopped short and exhaled a surprised breath, realizing that there are, in fact, a lot of buildings in P.B Enclave. She put down her suitcase and dug her right hand inside her right rear jean pocket. She removed a chit of paper she had carefully placed in her pocket. '14/4 P.B Enclave', it read. Even though she remembered the address like one remembers one's best friend' name, she wanted to recheck the address just to reassure herself. She bit her lower lip with apprehension.
"How am I going to find the correct building?" She asked to herself in frustration. Maybe I should ring the bell of the first house I see. She chuckled at the futility of the idea. Someone would surely call the Military Police on her. She took a deep breath and decided to see if any number or address was written on the nameplates in front of nearest building. "Good-thinking, Sherlock!" She said to herself as she walked to the first building and tried to spy an apartment that had a legible nameplate or an address.
Luckily, she caught sight of a name plated painted on the garden wall of an apartment on the ground floor itself. She could see the gorgeous greens of the garden through the wooden fence and also spied sweet peas over grown and hanging above the fence. She cautiously walked over to it and read 'Major Santosh Bhan, EME, 1/ 3, P.B. Enclave' painted over it.
The address didn't make any sense to her. Though her sixth sense told her that this was not Nihal's building. She looked for other addresses that may shed light on this particular problem. She found none. She panicked just a little.
Oh well!! She thought calmly. "I'll just move on to the next building!"
She walked over to next building where she saw addresses that read '2/3 P.B Enclave' on the first floor and then '2/5' on the second floor. Initially, the address made no sense to her and added to her panic and despair. However, as she walked to the third building, it suddenly occurred to her that the first numeric digit was the building number and the second numeric digit was the apartment number. She once again removed the chit from her pocket and looked at it with keen eyes. "Of Course! The 14th building with the 4th apartment!" She laughed gleefully. Encouraged by her brilliant analytical skills, she set out to look at other buildings.
She walked down the slope she had seen earlier and reached the children's playground. However, as she neared the building, she saw that the building was marked as 'No.17.' She walked in front of it and saw the ground floor house addressed as '17/1 P.B Enclave.'
"Oh God!" She remarked when she realized that from building numbers 1, 2 and 3; she had directly walked to building number 17. It made no sense to her. Where were building numbers 4 to 16?
Veera sighed. She decided to keep walking. She'll eventually reach somewhere. Her mind drifted to Nihal as she walked on the tarmac road. Nihal, Nihal, Nihal... just thinking of that man made her heart race with nervousness. Would he be happy to see me? She wondered. Should I have told him that I was coming today to meet him? No, he would have firmly and resolutely told her not to come. He and Sartaj, her brother had always been too over protective of her. Maybe earlier, before the accident, had she come with Sartaj, he would have been still okay, however, now she wasn't so sure. Sadness filled her heart as she remembered the good old days. Days, when they were younger and looked forward to life with excitement and happiness.
She spotted a couple of butterflies fluttering by on the wild and invasive Lantana camara hedge that was growing near the edge of an inconspicuous shallow creek, rather forming a canopy over it. She concentrated on looking at them, anything to keep her mind off her anxiety. Desperately trying to ignore the knot of anticipation in the pit of her stomach, which tightened with each second. She even bent over to look into the creek and spotted a few tadpoles waddling around and a few dragonflies peacefully sitting on the sides.
Tears formed in her eyes but she refused to let herself cry. Instinctively, she knew that today marked a very pivotal point in her life. She was wagering with herself. Either, she was going to remember this day with happiness or with a sense of complete satisfaction that she left no stone unturned to seek what she wanted. If she failed, she wanted to live in peach and harmony. Especially, in the satisfying knowledge, in the years that followed, that she had failed not because of her insecurity and inadequacies but because it was not meant to be.
She took a determined breath and considered alternate ways of finding Nihal's apartment. She looked around for a sentry on duty or maybe even a school bus but she saw no one she could possibly ask. She was still thinking hard of a solution when she heard a bike approaching her way. A milkman was riding his bike with large milk containers hanging on either side. She jumped up in exuberantly and waved at him.
He stopped before her and looked at her expectantly.
"Do you know where is 14/4 P.B Enclave?" She asked him, desperately praying that he would know the location.
"Yes." He answered in his rustic voice. "Way up that path and then turn right."
"Thank You!" She replied.
After a vigorous walk of 15 minutes, Veera finally reached the designated building that housed Nihal's apartment on the 1st floor. She looked at the 1st floor and could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She unconsciously fingered the tea stain on her shirt with her fingernail where the child in her train compartment had spilled it on her. The child had continuously listened to an automated duck, which produced a maddening 'quack-quack' sound all through the night. Her head throbbed just thinking of it. Taking a deep breath she walked up the stairs, confirmed the address through the chit in her pocket and rang the bell.
A few moments later, she rang the bell again. The third time she rang the bell with annoyance. When she lifted her hand to ring the bell for the fourth time, the door at the opposite end of the floor opened and a young woman leaned out the door way. She was tall and slim and was wearing a cream t-shirt with track pants and sports shoes.
"That house is unoccupied." The woman informed Veera. In that moment, Verra knew that she would wring Nihal's neck. And giving her the wrong address would be the least of his problems.
"Doesn't Major Nihal Virk live here?" she asked in an even tone trying to keep annoyance and despair at bay, which were fast filing her stomach.
"Oh! You've come to meet Nihal?" She smiled and continued, "He definitely lived here till ...about yesterday." Veera heard a little hustle that seemed to have come from behind the young lady at the door and then another head appeared. A man's head that looked at Veera with concern mingled with curiosity.
"Who are you talking to, Purvi?" he asked the young lady, who Veera concluded must be his wife. Purvi opened the door wider for her husband to step outside and said, "There's a lady here who wants to meet Nihal."
"Yes Ma'am?" He looked at Veera coolly. This man was tall and well built and was supporting a handlebar mustache. Like his wife, he too was wearing a cream shirt with dark blue shorts and running shoes. "Hi! I am Veera Malhi and I am here to meet Major Nihal." She said to him with a lot more confidence than she felt inside.
"He doesn't live here anymore." He replied, keenly observing her tea stained cream cotton shirt with dark blue jeans and her suitcase. "Do you know where he lives now? I know he is posted here in Udhampur." Veera noticed her high-pitched tone but was unable to sound calm and composed when she felt so uncertain and anxious by each passing second.
"He moved to the Transit Depot last evening. I am Lt. Colonel Surya Kant. I am his neighbor and friend. Is there a message I can deliver to him on your behalf?" He asked her politely.
"No, that would be unnecessary. However, I wish to meet him soon." Veera replied.
"Ma'am, he may have already left as we speak." Lt. Colonel Surya Kant checked his watch. "His Unit is moving further up North. Ummm... If you desire to, we may drop you back to the railway station or the bus stop as you prefer." He told her and exchanged a glance with his wife that said 'what should we do with her?'
No, this could not be happening. Not after she wrote a hasty note to her parents, took the over night train to Jammu and took a godforsaken rickety bus ride to Udhampur. Not after the emotional roll coaster she went through to reach here and certainly not after the guts and confidence it took her to ultimately stand here. So, Oh Yes!! She was going to meet him by hook or crook.
"I thank you Major Surya Kant but that would not be needed. I am his wife and it is imperative that I meet him."
***
I have always wanted to write a romance story. I had thought of this story on a metro train journey in New Delhi. At first, I was too busy with life to actually sit down and write about Veera and Nihal but they were always there in the back of mind, urging me to tell their story.
So, finally in June, 2020, I opened my laptop with the sole purpose of writing their story.
This is my debut short novella and I hope you enjoy Veera and Nihal's story as much I enjoyed writing it! :)
Please vote and state your feedback!
Enjoy! :)