“Mom, what is love?”,one of the crucial questions that a teenager could ever asks to her mother. “Well……”Sara started to answer the big bang question . “ Love is pink dear”. “PINK….?”Zoya was confused and looked into her eyes.
“Dad what is love ?” Aavan asked his dad. One of the crucial questions that a teenager could ever asks to his father. Aaksh said,“Aavan..love for me was just pink.” Both laughed.
“WHAT IS YOUR LOVE STORY ?”
“I was a topper of my school and did well in 10th board exams and decided to join one among the top schools for my 11th and 12th grades. Some of my friends from same school also decided to join in the school and according to our marks and priorities we were admitted into many classes. With great curiosity I entered 11-A, it was amazing . Class was a heaven (literally) our Kanish mam was so sweet and I am not an introvert . I made entire class my amigos. We had a class whatsapp group and I was it's admin(still I am ).We had fun all the time, cracking jokes,engaged in serious discussions and quarrelled ,with and without reasons for many times. 11-A was close to my heart.
It was a hot summer day I was thirst and asked for water but nobody had it because it was the last section . I ran with an empty bottle through the corridors suddenly I noticed near the staircase in Science block there was a girl in very clean uniform with a short oily hair was standing with a pink bottle and I felt victory, before I ran clasp the bottle which was pink in colour , the merciless girl poured water into a plant pot in the stairs. I felt crying and pulling her hair. I saw the green plant laughing at me and it was terrible and that girl was 1000 times terrible .”Hate you”(recited in mind)
Next day I was roaming with some of my friends through the corridor and I saw the same girl in the stair with a pink bottle, giving water to the plants and holding the leaves and passing her hands throughout the plant stem. I looked at her and went to my class.
After three or four days I noticed the same girl with same pink bottle sitting in the stairs at the Science block and watering the plants. For the first time I smiled at her.
Days passed …………weeks passed………..
Same girl …..same oily hair…….same pink bottle………It was very hot at those days but I felt cold, a smooth one in my heart that made me to watch and watch and watch her all the day at the last hour in my whole sections.
Initially it was her hair that I looked it was damn oily . Then it was her pink bottle that attracted me a lot because it was beautiful and I never saw her without the pink bottle (hope it was her pet) . Later I took the initiative to zoom her in ,her hair was oily as I said, she was dark with small eyes (neither green nor blue)and small pink lips and total free makeup. The girl with pink bottle was an energizer that made me to rush into school and at those days even thought to draft a letter to our principal about the Sunday classes(Thank god I never commit such a mistake)
The same girl ,the same pink bottle made my days and I was in 12C. Some new faces and major old faces and classes were great . All I was thinking was about how to see her in the last hour as I was having my practical class with Skylab mam and I hated those classes only because I will miss the pink bottle!
Days passed….. I felt bored (for the first time in my life ), sitting with 69 students I felt lonely .
Weeks passed and I really miss that pink bottle.
After one month (nearly) due to construction works in our classroom we were asked to shift to another class and I can say God is great. We shifted to a classroom in Science block and the best thing was that now the staircases where the plants were kept was just a window pane distance(I wrote on my diary that day , “I conquered the world to see the pink bottle” )
Days passed………
Weeks passed……
It was colorful that her pink bottle and those smiling plants made my life green.
One day I looked through the window and she was not there .I waited for her and asked thousand times my mind where are you…? She did not come that day
Second day ….disappointing she was not there
I went home without wings and felt a sad lava flowing through my body.
Fourth day…..disappointing.....
Sixth day ……disappointing....
Days passed …….weeks passed….actually for the first time months passed and she was nowhere.
Security guard came and removed those dry plants from the stairs and I missed those greenary.
I didnot know her name ,not her class,not her course,not her friends,not her cycle,not her house ,not her parents,not any of her cousins or siblings in the school,not anybody, not anything …..all I knew was that she had a pink bottle and she loved plants. I didnot share this with anybody because I decided to keep that exclusive and close to me only to me .
I scored well in my board exams and joined IIT-Delhi. My dad got a transfer and our family shifted to Delhi. I was happy, not that much but I carried my career along with me all the time.
On my way to airport something filmy and unexpected happened.It was raining and we were in a traffic block. Being a single child I was always obedient and was sitting with my mom in the back and dad was busy talking with the cab diver about the rain, the traffic and it started boring for me . I looked through the door I could see a pink bottle in a stone bench and I was astonished, “Is it pink itself?” I asked myself and before I could muster an answer a girl wearing a kurti (red kurti..I guess if I am not wrong ) with an umbrella came and took it from there and walked away.
The car moved and like the old classic movies hero(of course) and heroine(I wish) went opposite.
On my way to airport I was deeply thinking about the bottle and that girl I saw in the park….I was confused ,whether it was she the girl with pink bottle who loved plants ? I don't know but I calmed myself that she won't be that much fool to carry a bottle with water in this rainy days to enjoy in the park . I took my flight.
DELHI……
Delhi was good , actually it was great and IIT kingdom was love and I struggled to become a prince in the kingdom and life was going bliss. I loved everything in Delhi strating from IIT,Sudhama,Momos,Public library and especially exploring my world in rickshaw ……all was memorable. My dad and mom was happy about me and I loved the space I shared with them. Being a single child they taught me everything , to share to care ,to love ,to pray and not to give up anything and I did the same.
Days passed…..weeks passed….months passed…….years passed…….
One day Dad called me. It was 7 in the morning and asked about my work and about my American days. Like many IITians I was working in US and life was smooth.
“How are you beta?”-dad
“ I am good papa. What about you?Ma kaha hein?(where is mom?)”
He passed the phone to mom and I was expecting a routine question from her.
“Beta khana kha liya(Did you have your food)?” I answered and she further asked “busy hein kya ( Are you busy)?”
I was but I said, “Nahi,bolo ..kya bath hein( what is the matter)?”
She cleared her throat and said , “Beta ek ladki hein(there is a girl)”
Now the circle widened and I got the picture , my matrimony profile matched with someone .I was not shocked and for sure not happy too.
A Delhi settled, postgraduate in Environmental Studies, daughter of a retired bank employee and a school teacher with two younger brothers and with many fatty uncles and aunties decided to have an alliance with an IITian working in US and I matched.
Dad took phone from mom and asked , “ Beta …Is all okay?”
…….Silence……
I placed the cup of tea I was holding in the table and said ,
“Yeah dad all good” ( I was not )
Again dad, “ So when you will join as?”
……..Silence.. I cleared my throat and said
“ In a couple of days , dad I have to go (lying) I will call you ,bye”
I kept the phone and sat in the sofa near the table where I kept the cup of tea and I could see the framed photograph of me ,dad and mom that we took in Delhi when I was in third year . The hot steam rised from that cup , a pink cup and I missed something and missing the same .
DELHI……….
After two years again in Delhi but not in my hideout I was sitting infront of seven to eight uncles and not less than five aunties scattered here and there and kids with and without their parents. In the opposite side it was me my dad and mom with our uncle from singapore looking and smiling at everyone . “So….”,someone breaked the silence “shall we call her ?” ( I sighed that girl was all about to come) Suddenly girl's father called his wife and a dozen women came out and a girl with tray came and offered a cup of tea.( A topper in all exams and an IIT ian earning more than 15 lakhs ,settled in US is shivering.... Yes I was SHIVERING…) I was all about to look her face and suddenly my phone , my i- phone fell down and I lost my courage at that single moment and didnot look her . I drank the tea.
After 20 minutes
I was in her room, we were asked to talk for the next 15 minutes and granted our privacy with all the aunties and kids at nearby corners. I looked around and it was very beautiful. I could see many indoor plants and hanging pots of plants . It was good and I loved it but there is nothing unusual in the living area of an Environmental studies graduate. After a couple of minutes an “Excuse me”turned me back. “Do you want some water ?”
God…..you are wonder…
I was surprised . I looked her, the same girl who mercilessly poured a bottle full of water for a plant when I was thirsty, the same small eyes,the same black oily hair ( now it looks beautiful), the girl with pink bottle and who loved plants was standing infornt of me to become my life long ‘Pink’
“Excuse me , paani chahiye(Do you want water) ?” she asked again and I nodded. She took a pink bottle from the desk and poured a glass of water .I drank it like anything and looked at that pink bottle it was not the old one but it was beautiful. We talked and I never said my affection to pink . We went down .
After three years we were blessed with twins and got shifted to USA . I took pink always with me ,forever.
“Aavan…………..”
“Aavan ..where are you?”
“Mom coming”Aavan ran and washed his hands and took a chair.
“Dinner is ready . Where is dad?”
Aakash joined them.
“Aavan what was the story going between dad and son?” she asked
“Mom it was a story of a pink bottle,” he looked at Aakash he was smiling.
Aavan start to eat and turned to his sister, “Zoya, did mom spoiled your sunday?” he laughed and Zoya drank water and looked at Saara and said “No Aavan, we were also telling a story - a story of a topper who was always thirsty ,running after a pink bottle”
Aakash looked at Saara, she smiled.
PINK IS BEAUTIFUL.