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October 2020

Pune

Indian Defence Station, Indian Air Force.

Quarter No. 15

Cluelessness; is a state of mind we often find ourselves in. Seldom, it is about the unknown realms of situations but majorly, it is about the known workings of our mind, wherein we find it hard to give our thoughts a proper vision or understanding. And when the sphere of our emerging thoughts is new, it is even more of a taxing and tiring task. How do we deal with this bubbling cluelessness when we are equally oblivious about the way we ought to define or understand our own set of brimming emotions?

Out of all things, being clueless about the algorithms of the unnerving emotions is something that leads us down the valley of a strange perchance. It is like we know what we are feeling but at the same time, we are unaware of the things it is doing to us, what are we supposed to name these inexplicable feelings that we undergo and how are we supposed to deal with them? A set of questions like these is enough to entangle the wires of our brains.

Perhaps, let's just say that this is that bittersweet mechanism of us understanding our own self that just allows us for a yet freshly brewed exploration of our perceptions.

Traversing through the course of emotions, Monami was sailing in the very boat of cluelessness. She was back to questioning herself, just the way she had been doing for the past few weeks. There were these feelings that were surfacing time and again, and it left her in a tumultuous experience. She was taking baby steps in understanding the depth of these emotions, rather than rushing towards their labeling.

And like an unnoticed habit, she yet again opened the picture of her and Karan, wherein she was looking at the camera and he, at her. This was like an unsaid conclusion that she reached, every time she was having an internal debate about her channeling her feelings. She would open their snap, caress his captured face and question herself in a whisper, "Mere har uljhe ehsaas ki dor tumse he kyu judi hui hai? Kyun jab bhi jin feelings ko nahi samajh paati, unka rishta tumse hota hai?"

(Why are you the connecting thread of my every entangled feeling? Why does it happen every time that whenever I fail to understand these feelings, they have to be related to you?)

She then scrunched up her face and twitched her lips. "Huh, tumhara toh kaam he mujhe pareshaan hai."

(Huh, you're designated to trouble me, anyway.)

Monami sat silently for a while, whilst glancing at Karan's picture. Though her eyes were stuck on the screen, her mind was elsewhere. She got out of her trance when the alarm on her phone buzzed, as this was the indication for her to get up and sit in front of the television. Monami then got up to bring her two t-shirts from her room that needed a little bit of sewing and came back into the living room and settled on the sofa.

As soon as Monami turned on the channel she was supposed to watch, her ears were filled with the sound she was used to; the music of IPL.

IPL or Indian Premiere League is a men's Twenty20 cricket league that is annually held in India and contested by 10 city-based franchise teams. Generally, it is held between March and May, but this year due to COVID-19, it was kept under the rain check until the situation was under control and then eventually it started in September. In this league, the teams are a mix of domestic and international players. A fun fact about this league is the contagious mad rush that all the cricket lovers of India anchor for these matches.

So as a pattern that was in action for the last few days and that will be in sync, for the upcoming few days, Monami diligently kept her attention on the TV screen, for it was CSK or Chennai Super King's match, which means, it was Karan in the playing eleven. And when certain someone's Kaptaan Sahab is out there, on the field, how can his Officer Saahiba miss it?

Also, Monami was now aware of the basics of cricket; courtesy of her husband and the crazy cricketholics at her home. And also, the reason she grasped these bits and pieces a little early was because of her sharp memory.

It was 23rd October and CSK had a match against Mumbai Indians, a.k.a., MI. The latter team won the toss and opted for batting. The team was efficiently set up, under the meticulous guidance and leadership of Mahendra Singh Dhoni, fondly addressed as MSD.

There was a half an hour's break before the first innings of the day would begin. So Monami leaned back on the sofa and pulled up her legs, folding in a crisscross apple sauce position before picking up the neatly folded t-shirts on her lap. She then, with a concentrated frown on her face and her tongue peeping out a little as she finally put the thread in the needle, after a few failed attempts. She completed her task in hand, whilst keeping the television on mute. And then she got up to fetch a water bottle and a few veggies that she might chop until her husband's team comes for batting.

The match began and Monami's attention was working just fine for both the ongoing chores. Since Karan was a batsman, there was no role for him at the moment except for fielding, attentively and he was doing a perfect job.

A few minutes into the match, Monami could see the infamous Karan Shergill behavior surfacing on the field. Had it been the first time, she would have been gobsmacked, to say the least. Because that's what she was, when she witnessed him on screen; it was his deadly glares that he gave his opponents or the cusses which he bluntly spoke. Although it was not the first, neither the fierceness nor the unequivocal attitude, it amazed her, because it was almost a 360 flip from the behavior she was accustomed to. Then again, she was no different from what you call a macho when she was on her duty but the difference was that this sight was hidden from Karan.

Soon, the minutes turned into hours and it was the second innings, wherein CSK was batting and it was Karan and his co-opener, Ruturaj Gaikwad on the crease. They built up a good partnership of 50 runs smoothly before the latter got catch out. Karan did a fist bump with the player who joined him and went on to take his position.

Monami was keenly hooked to her screen, not wanting to miss anything. Unbeknownst to herself, her fingers were curled up, praying for luck to be on the side of the team for which her husband was playing. She rolled in her lower lip and bit it, whilst smiling a little as she anticipated a half-century from her husband, who had chased an undefeated score of 46 runs.

One run in between and Karan was back in striking position, once again. But then something unexpected happened. The moment he took his final step of the run, and regained the momentum to stand on his feet, his stature was imbalanced and he swayed, and the bat in his grip followed the suit. The wicketkeeper rushed in, followed by his batting partner as they stabled him. Karan held onto the players on his side, until he was carried by them to the team room.

Monami was frozen on her spot, at the unforeseen event that took place. Just as she thought that there would be some more information she'd be able to get, the advertisement replaced the pitch on the screen. She whispered a quick prayer and wasted no second before she turned to her side and picked up the phone but then her moments halted. There was no chance Karan would be able to pick up her phone or anyone else's and she had no option but to wait to hear from the man himself. A minute into this entire thinking, her phone was swamped with the notification tunes.

She opened up her WhatsApp and their common family group where their elders exchanged messages, lingering with evident worry, and asked the others to inform about Karan's well-being, if anyone amongst them got to know. She then replied to her friends and closed the app. Not a second passed and there was a pop-up from one of the news portal apps and as her eyes caught the black worded headline, she instantly clicked on it.

"Opening batsman of CSK, Karan Shergill rushed out of the pitch amid the ongoing match due to health issues."

She read the article and the only line of worth was the one which was stated by the officials about informing that there was nothing to be worried about, the man was down with a nerve pull.

She kept her phone down, exhaled a sigh, rested her head on the headrest, and closed her eyes. In those fleeting moments of cluelessness about the entirety and intensity of the situation, her mind wandered around those abandoned lanes of childhood, where she faced similar obliviousness when her father would go on missions. But then again, she was just a growing child at that time so her mind could not comprehend the gravity of the circumstances. Albeit, different from theirs, but yet the similarity of not knowing the exact position, left her with a bitter feeling of realization. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling blankly, wondering if it was the same unpleasant feeling her family members dealt with, when she remained out of contact with them, for a longer period. Perhaps, it would be filled with more trepidation.

It would be around a few minutes before midnight when her phone danced on the vibrations and ringtone. It was Karan. She did not delay and picked it up.

"Hello, Karan? Kaise ho? Ek minute, tumne pehle ghar pe call kiya, Papa ko?" At times like this, Monami's years-old practice of remaining sangfroid was worth appreciation.

(How are you now? But first, tell me, did you talk to Papa, back at home?)

On the other side, involuntarily a small smile crawled on Karan's lips, despite his low spirits. "Hey. Haan, baat ho gayi meri." He paused and the ongoing call added a few seconds of silent exchange of breaths before he continued, "Aur iss sey pehle tum pucho, mai bilkul theek hoon. It's just a muscle pull."

(Yes, I talked with him.) (And before you ask me, I am absolutely fine now.)

Monami hummed and then asked with all her calmness, "Aur kya hua Karan?"

(There is something more, isn't it? Tell me, Karan!)

Karan stared at his calf for some minutes "Haal filhal toh agla match nahi khel paunga aur phir series hone ke baad iska treatment lena padega kyuki 4 mahino mein yeh chauthi baar hua hai. Monami... mera game affect ho raha hai iss sey. Baar baar raise breaks... kya karu mai?" His voice dropped by each word he spoke in the last.

(As of now I am ruled out of the next match and then after the series is done, I'd have to take the treatment because this is the 4th time in the last 4 months. All this is having a bad impact on my game, Monami. Breaks like this... time and again! What should I do?)

Monami's heart went out to him. In these uttered lines, she could read so much more, so much in between. She wanted to be near him and hold him close to her. Long distance is a bitch; certified one.

She took a deep breath and with calculated words and emotions, she started, "Karan, it's okay. You cannot be in your form, always. And it does not even have to do with the fact that you're doing completely fine. You need not be harsh on yourself, okay?" She paused and heaved a sigh, not wanting to sound preaching and so she waited for him to speak.

"I know. But this has been too much now. At first, I struggled in net practices, obviously, I was away from the game for too long, then these once-in-a-month muscle spasms, then on and off inconsistency, and then the bad start of the series for our team... Aisa lagta hai ki saare khunnas nikali jaa rahi hai mujhse." Karan's insecurity, frustration, and pangs of over-thinking screamed out loud in his words. He let his fingers run through the nest of his hair, tiredly.

"I get you. I do, really. Lekin tum apne pichle 2 matches bhool gaye? Jab tumne itna accha khela? When you won Man of the Match in the last to last one? And what about the time when after consistently bad matches, you picked your rhythm and kicked everyone's ass? It was not only your feat but also your team's. Toh kya hogaya agar yeh match unta accha nahi raha tumhare liye toh? Tumhare efforts matter karte hain aur mai jaanti hoon ki tumne koi plan karke yeh nahi kiya hai. And you should be in fact thankful that you are not down with any severe injury, besides cheer up, your team has still made it." Monami felt the air thick between them so she in her Oh so authoritative tone continued, "Oye hero, gear up! You have to be back in your No nonsense, no filter, only game, and oh, only roar with a few dances mode!"

(Did you forget your previous matches, when you played so well?) (So what if this match was not what you expected it to be? What matters are the efforts that you've put into it and most importantly, it was not something that you planned.)

"Only if it was as flourishing as it sounds. We've lost this match as well. This was our last attempt to win and hope for a space in the playoffs, but no. And now it hardly even matters if we win or lose any match." He vented out. Then taking deep breaths to compose himself, he paused and then said, "Tumhe sona nahi hai? Kal tumhe timely uthna bhi toh hoga na. Mujhse baat karne mein kitna time lagaogi? So jaao jaake, mai theek hoon!" Karan tried to dissipate the topic, not wanting to deal with his vulnerabilities just now, and at the same time he wanted to be on a call with her, and he was also worried about her schedule. Basically, it was a myriad of emotions that he was dealing with, at the moment.

(Don't you want to sleep? You must have to get up early tomorrow as well, isn't it? How much time will you spend whilst talking to me? Go and take rest, I am doing fine now.)

Monami was not hidden from the fact that men have their defense mechanisms. It is something that they do not have to purposely build. And like many other men, Karan too pulled this façade up, to put a cloak on his vulnerable side and not become the center of attention when he was dealing with his emotions. She knew it was better if he took his own time to reflect and she prayed he'll be out of this phase soon. She knew that it was not a time to debate or cross him, so she simply agreed with him, albeit with terms and conditions applied.

"Mujhe neend toh nahi aa rahi vaise, haan lekin ho sakta hai ki agar tumhari shakal dekhne mil jaaye toh thoda bore hoke meri aankh lag jaaye!" Monami hoped for this vague humor to work in her favor.

(Though I am not sleepy, but yes if somehow I get to see your face, I might get bored and fall asleep.)

Karan narrowed his eyes and removed his phone from his ear before placing it back. "Monami, please not now!"

"Please? Only for five minutes."

They had a video call and somehow they just shared a few uninterrupted moments of breathing silence. Neither did she make any attempt to motivate him, nor did he say anything when she kept mum.

"Suno?" She said, after getting assured that he is in a better position now.

(Listen?)

"Hmm?"

"Apna dhyaan rakhna." She whispered.

(Look after yourself.)

He nodded and then she hung up, knowing he was never the one to do so.

The following days were practically fragments of relentless hustle, hectic schedule, sleeplessness, and struggling moments to make time to converse and cope with life in those worn-out seconds.

It was the first of November; the last match of CSK with Punjab Kings and the former team won. It was officially the end of the series for CSK. They were now free to travel, after ensuring their medical tests were following the rules and guidelines. Monami knew that she wouldn't be able to talk with Karan tonight because obviously, the team would be busy celebrating their victory in their last match of the season. Hence she decided to sleep in early. However, since it was the match day it was past her sleep hours.

As the lady assumed, it was correct. The team was indeed celebrating and they had all the rights to do so. So what if this season was not as per their expectations? This was just a phase, even the greatest of kings faced defeat before bouncing back and knocking off the opponent. Moreover, this was a league with family, because had it been a match between two countries, they would rather be dealing with the fake smiles that they would have to plaster to cheer their teammates up.

The team members were enjoying themselves, they were grooving on the tunes of Punjabi music, drinking occasionally, making fun of each other and just letting themselves loose for the time being.

All of them were also aware of one thing Karan was not someone who could handle alcohol, if it goes beyond 2 pegs. Oh, and that is one of the many reasons for him being a source of mockery for his Father and Brother. This was also one of the reasons of him not touching alcohol, if not necessary, and nor did his teammates force him. But this time, they just wanted him to let go of all he is holding within him and take it easy on himself, so they did what they thought was best. They got him drunk, albeit against the senior member's advice.

Karan in his inebriated state, was sitting on a bar stool, with his head resting on his right arm that was on the table. At times, he was circling his finger on the rim of the whiskey glass and scolding it to sit straight and not fall as if it was falling on its own accord. All these were the aftermaths of his hyper-energetic dancing and jumping around.

Seeing Karan talking to the glass once again, the senior members thought to ask someone to drop the man in his room, but they noticed that even their thinking was futile. The sober people took it upon themselves and briskly walked toward the blabbering goofball.

"Oyiiii, tum aise co-col-colorless kaise ho? Tumhare Mummy papa Ko tumpe colors acche nahi lagte thhey kya jo aise he bana diya?" Karan talked to the glass in front of him.

(Hey, why are you so co-co-colorless? Didn't your parents like the colors on you?)

"Hmmm, lekin design toh tumhari ek number hai." Karan added or more like slurred after rotating the glass on the table top.

(Hmm, but I have to agree that your design is fantastic.)

The players, who reached near him, exchanged a look with stifling laughter at his antics and then shook their heads before helping him get up. Balancing an intoxicated Karan was a herculean task and the cherry on the top was his nonstop blabbering. They somehow reached his room and settled him on his bed before making their way out.

Karan dropped his already out of control on his bed and blinked his eyes like an innocent kid, and took a glimpse of his entire room. He soon got bored and turned his body in a way that he was lying on his stomach now. But his face scrunched up when he felt discomfort in his left thigh. He turned again and grabbed the irritating thing that was his phone.

He then excitedly thumped his back on the bed took hold of his phone in both his hands and turned it on. But with his perfect balance at the moment, he managed to get a smack on his face by the very object.

"Omph." Karan groaned and took hold of it, before placing it on his side and turning his body towards his left to scold it.

"Tum- Tum kitne bek-kaaar ho! Kahin bhi girte p-padte rahet ho." He pointed his finger at the black screen.

(Y-You are so use-lessss. Why do you keep falling here and t-there?)

His eyes sparkled as soon as he remembered something. "Meri b-biwi ki d-daant he sudhaar sak-sakti hai ab tumhe." He hiccupped some more.

(Now only my w-wife's scolding can make you bet-better.)

"Now I miss my wife." Karan pouted and then he blabbered to himself, like he was doing all this time. "Ab yaad aa he rahi hai toh call he kar leta hoon." His lips stretched in a wide smile as he grabbed his phone and video-called her, with no thoughts whatsoever.

(Now that I am missing my wife, I should call her.)

Somewhere around 2:30 in the night, the lightless and soundless room of Monami was lightened and awakened by the incoming call. The lady's eyebrows furrowed and her eyelids opened up in mere seconds, with utmost alertness, for it was no hour to call someone unless it was some emergency and also because in her years of service, she was practiced with this conscious alertness.

"Karan?" She whispered to herself in confusion before glancing at the time and wasted no further time in accepting his call.

"Tu-tumhara net kyu band hai?" Karan grumpily said.

(Why is your internet not on?)

"Are you okay, Karan?" Monami cautiously asked.

"Noooo. I am miss-iiiing you and I wan-wanted to see you but why is your net off?" He slurred.

"Are you drunk?" She frowned.

Karan nodded his head and when he couldn't hear her reply, he whiningly ordered. "I'm video calling you."

Monami huffed, closed her eyes, rubbed her palm on her face, and shook her head before removing the phone from her ear and then turned on the screen before accepting his call. She couldn't hold back her chuckle when she saw his face in an extra zoomed-in manner, courtesy he held his phone way too close to him.

"Hiiii jaaannn." Karan excitedly chirped and his phone imbalanced a little before he kept it on his side desk and rested his chin on his folded knuckles.

Monami's cheeks flushed on hearing this endearment, like it did every time. Her lips wore the smile he gave her and she shifted back, adjusting her pillow; thinking that it might take time until her duty hours.

"Hi, Karan!" She reciprocated with a smile and then asked in concern, "Tumne iss time pe call kiya, sab theek hai? Aur tumne kitni pi hai?"

(Is everything alright, since you've called me at such an odd hour? And how much have you drunk?)

"Mai na tumhe bohotttt miss kar raha tha aur aur mujhe tumse kisi ki shikayat bhi karni thi, tum na bohot daantna usko." Karan puckered his lips in the end.

(I was missing you a lot and I wanted to complain about something to you. You must scold it a lot.)

"Accha, kisko?"

(Is it? To whom should I scold?)

"Mere phone ko!" He frowned.

(To my phone.)

Monami bit her lips to stop the crawling smile, at his complaint. She pulled up a serious expression and said, "Oh! What did it do?"

"It... it fell on my face. STRAIGHT!" He yelled in the end.

Involuntarily, a chuckle escaped her mouth and he pouted. "Huh. Now even you are laughing at me." He turned his puffed-up face to show his anger.

"Okay, okay! I am sorry!" Monami so wanted to be there and pull his cheeks, or even bite them, for he was being absolutely adorable and she cursed their long distance for the nth time.

"Vaise tumhe pata hai aaj na maine ek gaana suna aur woh lines sunke mujhe tumse who kehne ki iccha ho gayi!" His chin wobbled a little on his knuckles before he adjusted himself and with an intoxicated dreamy look, he continued or rather sang,

"Deewano ki baatein, deewaane jaante hain

Jalne mein kya maza hai, parwaane jaante hain,

Tum yunhi jalaate rehna, aa-aakar khwaabon mein...

Pal pal dil ke paas tum rehti ho!"

(You know I heard this song today and I wished to say nothing more than those same words to you.)

These words were nothing less than a confession, a heartfelt symphony, and a tapestry of togetherness of two souls. Monami felt herself getting embraced in the quilt of belongingness and subtle intimacy. Though under the influence of alcohol, his words were glittering with honesty and albeit a bit wavering, the intensity was oozing out of the exact lyrics he sang, out of the entire song or any other thing.

Clearly, at times, the wholesome moments are those about which you are oblivious. These unexpected seconds make your heart so full that you wish to pause the time till it lasts and till you are in those breathing chunks of time. You are so you, unabashed, unrushed, unwavering, unfaltering, and sincerely you that you cannot help but cherish the meticulousness of those once-in-a-lifetime moments because there might be moments more or less special than it, but it can neither be the same!

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4.3k+ words.

How was the chapter guys? Well, while writing I felt it was getting too long so I decided to continue with some of it in the next one, which has never been the case before but please let it slide this one time.

Also, I'm extremely sorry for not updating as consistently as before since I'm not at my hom for last two months and there is still some time for me to go!

But I hope the quality of the chapters is not going down!

A sincere thank you for all your love and support, comment and vote! 🫰

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Love,
Nehal.