Chandni Shree

23.05.2019
Mangalkulam

There was no dearth of star fruit in Mangalkulam in May. Everywhere I looked, fruit sellers were calling out to our townsfolk to buy the sweet and sour delight. I loved the yellow ones which tasted sweet, mostly. Since I was in a rush, I smiled at the fruit-seller lady who asked me whether I would want some and replied, 'No, aunty. I will come back in the evening. I had to take the train today as I missed the last bus. So, running late for work.' Why was I even explaining to her? But that was how I made small talk. My laconic behaviour went up to spewing three to five sentences instead of one-word answers. So, that should make me talkative. But I wasn't that either. I hung somewhere between being talkative and laconic; someone should have already coined a term for that.

I nearly lost my footing in a murky puddle while talking to her. Instantly, my eyes journeyed to the fuchsia leggings to check whether the puddle stained the corners. It hadn't. Sometimes, the universe listened to my silent cries for help in the most trivial things. Even if the leggings had stained a bit, I shouldn't worry about it much. But I wasn't manufactured like that. I was an over-worrier sometimes.

I made it to my office just before the time on my mobile phone turned to 09.35 AM. Not wanting to get on the wrong side of my branch manager, I sidled directly inside her room and greeted her with a wide smile.

'Ha, good morning, Chandni. I was waiting for you. Joseph Zachariah popped in at 09.20 and asked for this policy to be cancelled within an hour. He had to leave for an urgent meeting. He said he'd collect the acknowledgement tomorrow.' Mrs Brindha Mohan gabbled without stopping to breathe.

'Okay, madam. I'll do it once I log in.'

'By the way, you'll always come at 9.25 sharp. What happened today?'

There it was. However favourable a boss can be, when it came to punctuality, she'd instantaneously change into a true boss.

'Er... I had a row with Avinash first thing in the morning. And it just got to me that my brain cells slowed down naturally and it became late...'

'Okay, okay, Chandni. I can understand. You may go now.'

My lips twitched into a quick, fake smile as I exited her room. I opened the door to my cabin and placed my handbag and lunch bag on the side desk. I slumped down on the revolving chair, hitting the keys on the keyboard simultaneously. The monitor lit up with the Ctrl + Alt + Delete screen. I keyed in my login credentials and waited for the system to boot up. Meanwhile, I found Malarkodi, my colleague, in the next cabin engaged in an intense conversation with someone on the intercom. I waved a hi at her and signalled to her, asking about the caller. She moved her lips as if spelling 'customer call'. I nodded and went back to staring at my screen.

Why is this system taking centuries to boot up? I thought and clicked on the mouse frantically, running my fingers through my hair to order it up a bit. I had left it loose since my feather-cut two days ago. My new hairstyle was a hot topic of discussion for Malarkodi and the housekeeping staff, Ravi. They'd also engage in mild mocking during the lunch break. Their usual banter was that I had beautified myself to impress Avinash.

Eff! They don't know a thing. I went for a makeover because I wanted to do something quirky. Never even in my dreams, I'd do something like this for Avinash. He doesn't appreciate such things. He doesn't deserve it too, I had thought.

Finally, the desktop screen appeared, and I logged in to our company's portal. Malarkodi hung up the call and turned towards me.

'Hey, your top is great!' She exclaimed in her plastic tone that could make anyone fall for her cunning traps. Three years older than me, and married to a freelancer with a one-year-old daughter, she always had this poker face expression that left us confused. Because we wouldn't know whether she was being sarcastic or truly meant what she said. She had an olive skin tone with a fine-boned face, steely black eyes, well-pencilled eyebrows, and pouting lips that enclosed her snaggletooth.

'Thank you!' I trilled. I was wearing a pewter-grey Kurti top with fuchsia borders on the cuffs. It wasn't something to write home about, but it still made me look professional.

I gently brought my mind back to Joseph Zachariah's policy cancellation request. A huge sigh escaped my lips as I read through his apologies. He was cancelling the policy because he had found a better one at a private insurance company. Though this happened with most Government-aided insurance companies, it was becoming a trend of late. Cancelling because they found better prospects in the policies that private companies offered.

Anyway, I forayed to the cancellation screen. I was no Samaritan that I could call Zachariah and explain the advantages of the policy. Nor did I know him well enough to coax him into keeping the policy. He was a bigshot business person, and he meant business, nothing else. He was jovial with me but limited it to pleasantries, though Brindha had always asked me to converse with him on a wider range of topics. But I didn't venture further than the customary hellos and byes. If Joseph Zachariah was my age, I would have made small talk. But palavering with a middle-aged man was a sure no-no.

'Ravi Anna, take this inside for authorisation,' I called out.

Ravi bounced up from his place and took the papers from me. Swarthy, plump, always clad in pants and t-shirt, and having a pair of capable hands, he was an efficient housekeeper-cum-messenger in our office. I liked him though we constantly had differing opinions and argued about our beliefs and customs.

While waiting for the authorisation, I took my mobile phone out of my bag and unlocked it, then switched on the mobile data, and opened WhatsApp to check for new messages. There was a meme from Nithya. Snorting with laughter, I typed a reply to her.

Nithya Varma was my thickest friend, right from my high school days. She hailed from Thrissur, but she grew up in Mangalkulam as her father took up a tea estate business in Lakshyam, the second-lowest hill town of Jwalamukh Hills. Right then, she worked with an MNC in Janathantrapuram, the sprawling city at the base of the hills.

I also sent her another text - coffee in the evening?

Nithya: Yeah, sure. Where?

Me: Caffeine Surge

Nithya: Huh???

Me: The new coffee shop in Mangalkulam. It's elite. Seems Victorian-styled. I am dying to visit it.

Nithya: Okay, time?

Me: When are you finishing work today?

Nithya: 6 PM. I'll reach Mangalkulam at 6.30.

Me: Okay, I'll wait at the coffee shop. It's on Ashtenk Lane. I know it's not a frequented street. And that's why they have built the cafe there.

Nithya: Okay, done.

I replied with a thumbs up. Just then, Ravi came out of the manager's room along with the authorised papers. He placed them on the filing tray and went back to his place. Our main door swung open and a customer entered. He went straight to Malarkodi's counter and asked her for the details about a new vehicle insurance policy that he'd like to buy. As Malarkodi talked to him, I started underwriting some new policies that I had kept pending. Then the customer entered Brindha's room and began gesticulating with her.

Soon, it was time for the tea break. Ravi Anna got us each a cup of tea and two biscuits to go along. As I was munching on a biscuit, I got a call from Avinash.

'Hello, Avinash...' I dragged, not really yearning for a conversation with him.

'Hey, Chandni. What's up?' He asked me in his usual faux voice he used when he required something from me.

'Just doing some underwriting. Why have you called?'

'I just thought maybe we could marry this year. What do you say?'

Half of the biscuit which I had dipped inside the tea drowned in the liquid as soon as I heard him say that. Visibly annoyed – I wasn't sure whether it was because of the splotched biscuit or his casual questioning, I replied to him curtly.

'Avinash, that's not a good idea. You are still not settled.'

'If you think about being settled, we will never get married. To us, settling is a forever process. We will always be unsettled, but we have to manage our lives. How else can we get together, have kids, and run a family?'

Ridiculousness was Avinash's twin brother. And he was the breathing synonym of stereotype.

'How else? By being in a stable job with a stable income?' I asked sarcastically.

My words rendered Avinash silent. He spoke after a few seconds, carefully choosing his words.

'Okay, I accept I have been in and out of jobs. And now I am jobless. But I am trying. I am always trying to find a niche in which I can commit myself and then stay in that job forever. Why don't you understand?'

'I understand, Avinash. That's why I am asking you to take your time and not think about marriage and kids. Find your calling. Then, establish your routine around it. After that, we can marry and settle into domestic life. This is not the right time. Just because we have been engaged for the past two years doesn't mean we have to marry this year.'

'Chandni, we are losing the major years of our life by not being married. Just imagine how much fun we would have once we marry and start a life together.'

I rolled my eyes at the nonsense he was prattling.

'Avinash, I am 25 and you are 26. There are still years for us to marry. And we are having as much fun as possible.' Though you tire me out with your dogmatic character, I wanted to add but refrained.

'You will never understand, Chandni. Okay, I am not ready to argue with you again. Get back to your work. Bye.'

'Bye.' I heard the beep even before I could mouth it.

That was that. Avinash Prasad, my distant uncle's son, was just not right for me. He never understood me, never even listened to what I had to say. He was just so full of himself. But I was engaged to him. Well, I can't call it off or leave him at the drop of a hat. It's complicated. This familial relationship was intense and there was more to it than what met the eye.

But, hey, I am confused about whether I truly love him or not.

*

Mangalkulam was not as picturesque as the other hill towns decked on the Jwalamukh Hills range, but it was serene enough for other city people to enjoy a weekend getaway and relieve all their stress. Above our town was Lakshyam, then Kyathavasi, Vandakheri, Tagha, and Urivaloor. We had buses, cabs, and steam-engine trains running through the course of the hills. We even had auto-rickshaws that hoarded a bunch of people for a nominal amount per person.

The Jwalamukh Mountain Railway was one of the most popular mountain railway routes in the world. Two trains ran throughout the day, ferrying people and goods back and forth. The first one began at 7 AM at Urivaloor, the highest hill town, and journeyed through the other hill towns till it reached Janathantrapuram at 10 AM. It stopped at each of the stations for five minutes so that people who are going to work or returning from work can board it.

I hailed from Tagha. There were four of us in our family. My dad, Indrajith Ravikumar, worked in Urivaloor Tea Estate as a deputy manager and my mom, Meera Indrajith, was a homemaker who recently began a fashion reselling business. I had a younger sister, Madhu Shree, who was doing her final year in Mass Communication at a private college in Vandakheri. My daily routine would be to board the 8.20 AM bus at Tagha Bus Terminus, which would halt at Mangalkulam at 9.15 AM.

Though Tagha was my home, I spent most of my weekends in the other towns where my friends had their homes. Or I would just go for a drive on my scooter and hang out at restaurants or go to the movies. There were two multi-purpose malls in the hills, one at Vandakheri and another one at Urivaloor. Since the latter was the most popular hill station in Tamilnadu, tourists thronged the mall located there. Apart from the theatres inside the malls, there were two other multiplexes in Mangalkulam and Kyathavasi, respectively.

I was not that much of a movie buff, but I followed the reviews in The Times of India, Urivaloor Edition, and watched only movies with quality content and exceptional writing. Because of this, I missed watching many commercial potboilers along with my college gang, but I did not regret it. I went to college in Urivaloor. So, I knew almost all the places in the Jwalamukh Hills range. Moving from Janathantrapuram to the hills was the best decision that my dad made a decade ago.

I loved the hills and sometimes I found that the hills too loved me back. But what the hills couldn't provide me was true love in the form of a person. I couldn't even categorise the emotion that Avinash and I shared as 'love', let alone call it 'true love'. When the last fifteen minutes of my work day exhausted, I happily shut down my system and readied myself for my meeting with Nithya.

*

I

opened the door of Caffeine Surge. A strong aroma of ground coffee, caramel, and molten cheese welcomed me. I inhaled a monstrous sniff and let out a tiny squeal. It was indeed a Victorian-style cafe with a gigantic chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. There were beautiful elevated golden lights that gave the cafe its 19th-century aesthetic. It also had pristine white tables with curved legs and ornate details in gold at equal distances, paired with four upholstered grey-cushioned chairs. A golden rug ran all along the cafe. Antique wall frames with quotes by famous authors adorned the walls. Overall, the exquisite cafe was bustling with the evening crowd.

I sat at one table and waited for Nithya. A server came around for my order, but I requested him to come after five minutes. Just then, I received a text from Nithya telling me she would be ten minutes late. So I decided to freshen up and apply makeup again. I went to the ladies' washroom and splashed cold water on my face. Then I stared at my reflection.

My face had faint traces of the husk I was becoming. A shell of someone I didn't want to become. My chestnut-brown skin with its acne and blemishes was filled with stress caused by the workload that was increasing day by day. My perfect jawline with well-aligned teeth was my most prominent facial feature. But that did not make my jet-black eyes any less prominent. I loved my eyes, so I always made significant efforts to line them with kohl so that they glimmered throughout the day. My cheeks looked sculpted since I started losing weight by cutting on sugar and replacing it with honey at home. The only thing that spoiled my near-perfect face was my asymmetric nose. But I had gradually come to accept it after hating it during my adolescent years. I reapplied some compact, kohl, and lipstick so that I didn't look stress-stricken.

When I reached my table, I saw Nithya opening the main door. She broke into a wide smile and waved at me. I waved back at her, relieved to be in her company for a while. She waited for the gang of friends in front of her to disperse so that she could make her way to my table. She had porcelain skin, a snub nose, almond-shaped amber eyes, and thick curly hair. Overall, she looked cherubic with her bespectacled face, plump figure, and photogenic teeth.

She hugged me and then sat on the opposite chair, placed her mobile phone on the table, and picked up the menu card.

'Beautiful place, Chan! Sorry, the train took an extra ten minutes to start from Janpuram.' She had the habit of abbreviating Janathantrapuram as Janpuram.

'It's okay, Nithi. At least I got some time to freshen up.'

'Okay, what shall we order...' she trailed off in her euphonic voice.

'I'd like some White Chocolate Cappuccino.'

'Okay, I'll go with Gourmet Belgian Hot Chocolate. We'll also order some chilli garlic french fries.'

We called the server and relayed our orders. As we waited, we fell into a comfortable chit-chat about our lives.

'I met Arjun yesterday. He looks all beefed up. I asked him whether he was getting married. He just laughed it off,' bantered Nithya.

'Oh!' I deadpanned. The mention of Arjun brought back unpleasant memories. He was my high-school boyfriend and our breakup was rather bad, what with the N number of accusations we cast on each other.

'Hey, you okay? I didn't mean to work you up,' Nithya tapped her fingers gently on the back of my hand.

'I am okay, Nithi. Just that every time someone mentions his name, I'd feel a tinge of ache. That's it. By the way, I'd be happy if he's getting married.'

'Hey, I think they are planning for an alumni meeting,' Nithya changed the topic swiftly.

'Is it? That's news to me. I didn't see any discussions regarding that on WhatsApp.'

'It's still not announced on WhatsApp. I met Keerthi and Archana yesterday. They told me that an alumni meeting might be on the cards.'

'Well, that's good then. It'd be rejuvenating to meet everyone again and relive all our high-school memories.'

As we discussed further regarding our schoolmates, our orders arrived. The first sip of my White Chocolate Cappuccino felt like a sip of the moonlight. Nithya's eyes bulged, too, when she took the first sip of her hot chocolate.

'Wow! That's one helluva taste! I see we'll be frequenting here, Chan.'

'Yes, it's divine! This cappuccino feels like everything I have been waiting for,' I chuckled.

We gorged on the chilli garlic fries too, which were equally delectable. After spending another twenty minutes at the cafe, we split the bill, paid a hefty tip to the server, and rushed to Mangalkulam Bus Terminus to catch the last bus of the evening. Nithya would alight at the next stop, Lakshyam, while I had to pass by two more stops before I reached Tagha.

Within another hour, I was safely tucked between the walls of the snug bedroom I shared with my younger sister.

*

24.05.2019
Tagha

Narayanan Uncle flashed the warmest smile when he saw me walking towards his humble newspaper-cum-snack shop, JP News & Snacks Bar. I handed a five-rupee-coin to him and he handed me The Times of India, Urivaloor Edition and some peanut chikki.

'Ennama? Are you on leave today?'

'No, uncle. I'll start in another few minutes. I got some time to spare since it's mom's turn to prepare lunch today,' I replied, folding the newspaper into two.

'Oh, seri. Avinash came by an hour ago. He saw that you weren't awake yet, so he left without knocking at your door.'

'Oh, I haven't checked WhatsApp yet. Maybe he might have texted me about his arrival. Okay, uncle, bye. See you tomorrow.'

'Bye, ma.'

I left the shop, surprised that Avinash should have stopped by at such an early hour. Since he was jobless, he used to sleep till 10 AM every day. So, it was almost a shock when Narayanan Uncle told me about his visit. I entered my house, thinking about him all the way.

While I entered our bedroom, I heard splashing from the bathroom. Irritation uncoiled from the pit of my stomach. I strode towards the bathroom.

'Madhu! How dare you bathe during my time slot?' I banged on the door.

'Give me five minutes, Akka! I'll be out in a jiffy!' She hollered back.

'I know about your five minutes, Madhu. Come out right now! I can't miss the bus today. I don't want to take the train again.'

There was no response from her. Typical Madhu. If she knew she was on the winning side, she kept quiet. Anyway, things would go her way. But I knew the right trigger that would make her go nuts. I pulled out my violin from its case.

Tuning it, I started playing the opening notes of How To Name It by Ilaiyaraaja. Madhu was the only person in my known circle who hated the instrumental piece. I mean, how can one hate it? That one terrific violin piece got me interested in playing the instrument in the first place.

'What the hell!' Madhu shrieked.

'I'll keep playing until you hurry and come out,' I replied rather nonchalantly.

Madhu tried to splash the water fiercely to drown out my violin's sounds, but I began playing the part that had some crescendos.

'Here I am! Here I am! STOP PLAYING!' She dashed out of the bathroom with only a bath towel wrapped around her sleek body and her hair tied into a bun. Since the water was still dripping from her legs, she stomped them on the mat in front of the bathroom.

'Would you freaking stop playing and give up behaving like a dipshit teenager?' She continued bawling as I finished playing the piece.

'That serves you right.' I disengaged the violin and bow from my left shoulder and placed them back in the case.

In another forty minutes, I was all dolled up for the day. Mum served two dosas with coconut chutney. I gobbled them up as I watched a few Tamil songs on the Sun Music channel. The bus stop was just a five-minute walk from my home. So I reached just as the bus was curving through a hairpin bend to reach the stop.

Boarding the bus, I smiled at the conductor who greeted me. I was also extra jubilant because I wore my favourite pistachio-green Kurti top paired with tomato-red leggings. I topped it with my favourite front-open teal-blue sweater. Instead of leaving my hair free, I had plaited it on my right side and left it hanging in the front. Though some of the unruly hairs stuck out, the whole hairstyle felt cute on me.

I reached Samarpan Insurance Company Limited precisely at 9.25 AM and removed my sweater immediately. Mangalkulam was cool only during the night. It felt like any other land-level city during the day.

Greeting Brindha Mohan, I went to my place and placed my handbag and lunch bag on the side desk. Malarkodi had not yet arrived. So I greeted Ravi Anna and logged in to my system. After five minutes, Malarkodi made her entry, greeted everyone, and took her seat. As the day passed by with a couple of premium payments and one policy renewal, Brindha shouted from her cabin, 'Girls, you are getting a new manager!'

'What?!' Malarkodi and I chorused in unison, not sure whether we heard her right.

Brindha came out of her cabin so that she could be audible to us.

'Yes, girls, you're getting a new branch manager.'

'Who is she?' Malarkodi, always being the over-enthusiastic one, asked.

'Some Faneel Basnet, it seems.'

'What? Basket?' I quipped.

'Basnet, Chandni, Basnet. Not Basket. Basnet is presumably a Nepali surname. I Googled it.'

'So, is she a Nepali?' asked Malarkodi.

'I don't know. I just checked the list of new branch managers posted in the branches.'

'And where are you going, madam?' I questioned.

'I am off to Kanchipuram, my hometown,' Brindha's lips widened with a rare smile.

'That's great! Congratulations, madam!' Malarkodi greeted her, and I followed her.

'Okay, I am going to check this Faneel Basnet's employee profile. Anyone wants to join me?'

'I - I am coming, madam,' I said, hurriedly. Though I couldn't beat Malarkodi's enthusiasm, I was still curious to know about this person under whom we would be working for another couple of years.

'Okay, come.'

Brindha ushered me inside her cabin. She then logged in to the All Employees Portal and typed in Faneel's name. The page slowly loaded with the employee's photo and details.

I gasped.

'Is this Faneel Basnet?' I edged closer to the screen as if not believing my eyes. Even Brindha seemed to be dumbstruck.

Turns out, Faneel Basnet was not a woman. It was a man. A young and naïve Nepali man.