Ladies and gentlemen, in a short while from now, we shall be landing at the Chhatrapati Shivaji airport, Mumbai,” announced the air-hostess, waking Meera up from her nap.
She found herself looking at the twinkling lights of beloved Mumbai, welcoming her home. “Nice to be home,” said her co-passenger, echoing her thoughts.
Meera smiled back at him. It was indeed nice to be back home after four long years. She had left four years back for Rome, to take up an advanced course in Renaissance Arts.
While Rome had been a lovely place to stay at, she had missed India.
The smell of her country brought nostalgic memories, as she stepped on to the tarmac. She was back home. She had mailed her cousin, Nina, who was staying at Mumbai, to meet the flight. While going through the customs, she wondered if Nina was in town. It would be a bother to locate a cab and Nina’s address, at this time of the night.
“If she doesn’t turn up I’ll just take a room at a hotel for the night and locate her house tomorrow morning; maybe that’s a better idea. I am not in a mood for conversation right now, I just want to flop into a bed and sleep,” she mumbled to herself.
The Immigration guys were painfully slow and it took her almost an hour to get cleared. She sleepily rubbed her eyes and began pushing the trolley towards the exit.
One last look at the horde of people who had come to receive their folks, confirmed that her dear cousin was nowhere on the scene. Meera shrugged indifferently and weaved her way through the crowds.
She was quite used to finding her way through such situations, without any problems. She had almost reached the exit when a tap on her shoulders stopped her in her tracks.
“Hello Meera, how are you?”
The voice sounded very familiar and she wheeled around to meet a pair of deep twinkling eyes.
“Why, if isn’t our own dear naughty Tutti Fruitty!” she said excitedly after recovering from the initial shock of seeing him there. He was the last person she had expected to meet!
“And how did you know that I was coming, or did you meet me by chance?”
“Meera, my dear Cherry Blossom, I am here to receive you.”
“What happened to Nina? I asked her to come.”
“Your Nina is now Mrs Tutti Fruiti,” he answered helping her with the luggage.
“You mean you are now my jeejaji’?” she laughed, putting extra emphasis on the word.
“When I couldn’t be Mr. Cherry Blossom, I decided to do the next best thing — become the jeejaji of my Cherry Blossom. After all, they say, ‘a sali is half ghar-wali’.”
They laughed in unison.
What a co-incidence, thought Meera. Samir was an ex-flame of hers, whom she lovingly called ‘Tutti-Fruitty’, because one day during their affair he had asked
her — “What do you like best in the world?”
“Tutti-Fruiti,” she had answered, without a moment’s hesitation.
“Then I wish I had been a tutti-fruiti, instead of a human being,” he had answered solemnly.
“You still can be,' she had replied flippantly. Since then, he had always been ‘Tutti-Fruiti’ to her. She was his cherry-blossom because, according to him, her nose was always shining bright, just as a shoe shines .. after being brushed with Cherry Blossom.
She smiled as she remembered those days.
“What makes you grin so impishly?” asked Samir as he drove the car expertly out of the parking lot.
“Do you remember what made me name you Tutti-Fruiti?” she asked.
“Do I remember? Oh boy, I can even remember the dress you wore, the setting and everything else.”
“I remember we were sitting in that small cafe near college and it was the first time, I spent money.”
“Oh, yes, you were always a big ‘kanjoos,’ I remember, I would land up paying each time we went out.”
“Yes, those days I hardly got any pocket money.”
“So many years have passed since then,” said Meera sighing.
“Eight years, to be exact.”
They had reached the flat and further reminiscence was impossible in the din that Nina created.
“You goon, how fresh and lovely, and you look, what a beautiful pair of ear- rings and what a neat pair of sandals,” she exclaimed.
Nina was three years younger than Meera — and mellower. They were first cousins. “You won’t believe it, when I told Samir that my cousin Meera was arriving from Rome and he had to recieve her, he was so unhappy because he would have to lose a little sleep, but when I showed him your snap, he said that he knew you. What a co-incidence! Isn’t it lovely? I won’t have the problem of you both not getting along well.”
The rest of the night passed off amidst cups of coffee and gossip. Meera caught up with the local news. It was almost dawn before they went to bed.
Nina was a working woman; she could not afford the luxury of late rising. Samir and she left home early the next morning while Meera slept blissfully through the rest of it, till she was woken up by the strident ringing of the telephone.
“Hello,” she drawled sleepily into the mouthpiece.
“Hi, I can literally hear your yawn, you sleepy head, it is almost noon. What about lunch? Don’t tell me; I know you skip lunches to keep yourself fit. It won’t be allowed while you are staying with us.”
It was good old Tutti-Fruiti.
“Oh hi!" she replied. "I was just wondering if I should settle for a late breakfast o an early lunch.”
“Cherry, cherry, don’t be lazy. How’s that for rhyming? Look, why don’t you drop into my office in another hour, then we can go out for a late lunch.”
"Done! But I warn you, I am feeling ravenous and my lunch will blow a hole right through your wallet into your pocket. Don’t blame me; it’s your offer,” Meera answered lightly.
“Same old Meera, frivolous and happy. Don’t worry; I’ll even loosen my purse strings for you to top your sumptuous lunch with a tutti-fruity”
“That is an irresistible offer.”
Precisely an hour later she was in his office cabin.
“You’ve done well for yourself I can't believe it. I don’t ever remember you doing well academically” she remarked looking around and taking stock of his office.
“Well, there are more important things in life than academics. Do you believe in the power of buttering? Better start believing. It brings better results. Try it out sometime.”
Meera wondered how well Samir got along with Nina who was basically a staid and serious person with out any perceptible sense of humour.
We were a nice pair she mused. She shook off the thought as quickly as it had come. She had had her chance and had thrown it away.
Samir had been a constant companion during her college days and then in the University during the postgraduation. They had a strong and steady relationship for about four years. Both had a flippant attitude towards the affair. Meera always had the tendency to take life as it came, and Samir was not in a hurry to set tie down, either. The affair had gone on till it suited them and then circumstances had played their role and they had drifted apart. There had been no sudden break-up or tearful goodbyes. Just a gradual drift. Meera was offered a chance to go abroad for higher studies and she had gone.
There had been no promises. No expectations. Samir had landed up a job. He had seen her off at the airport.
Initially they had communicated sporadically but slowly they became more involved in their new environments and the communication petered out. They cooled off and finally lost touch with each other.
Today four years later, they were back where they had parted. Only, the situation was different. Meera was Samir’s sister-in-law.
‘Did you know, I just didn’t realise that Nina’s Meera and my Meera would turn out to be the same,” joked Samir, sipping his post-lunch coffee. The lunch had been a real lavish affair. It had been a one and a hour long gastronomic affair. Meera had objected to the prohibitive cost.
“Tutti, this will cost you at least two day’s salary,” she said. “Have you turned over a new leaf? What happened to the good old ‘kanjoos’?”
“Company accounts, Ma’am, I am entertaining an important client,” he brushed away her objections dramatically.
“That explains it,” said Meera sighing, equally dramatically, and they both burst out laughing.
“Oh, those lovely old times; you know Cherry, I really miss them. One used to be so happy and carefree. No tension, no worry, just living life the way it should be lived.”
“Yes, I wish it could be that way forever.”
“Don’t I wish the same?” Samir said, flicking off a stray curl of Meera’s hair with his forefinger, an old habit of his.
“You still do it?” asked Meera.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t. It just happened involuntarily," he sighed. “I’ve given it up for good. Once, I had done that to Nina in a restaurant and she had lost her temper. She gave me an hour-long sermon on how to behave in public places Since then, I got over the habit. I wonder how it happened today. I guess being with you brought back early memories.”
“And the clouds of cigarette smoke you blew on to my face?”
whispered Meera almost inaudibly.
“I’ve given up that too,” he said ruefully.
“Come on, let’s go,” said Meera abruptly.
There was no point in going down memory lane. Lost time could not be retrieved.
‘Was I ever serious about Samir?” she asked herself that night. She could not help feeling a strong sense of loss; at the same time, it was not deep enough to rekindle the dead embers of love. She was aware that Samir still liked her very much and would jump at the offer of renewing their affair. In fact, he was trying hard enough. But is it worth all the heart break I would cause, wondered Meera.
She could not help feeling guilty about keeping her cousin in the dark, regarding the exact relationship she had shared with Samir. “Will she be able to take it sportingly, if I confessed about my past affair with Samir? She may even think that I am here intentionally to take up where we left off,” thought Meera.
It didn’t need much imagination to know that Nina would not be able to bear the truth. She was a serious sort and would certainly misconstrue the entire relationship. She might even feel that her husband and cousin had not met by chance — that it was a pre-planned thing.
No, I can’t tell her, decided Meera. Very logically, she reconstructed the entire past and dissected her feelings with a nonchalance she was capable, because of her cool and practical nature. She had perfect control over her emotions.
She decided that the feelings she had nurtured for Samir, eight years back, had not been strong enough to endure. She had placed her foreign education above him and Samir had given priority to his career over their relationship. Like two practical people, they had given their careers a priority.
In fact, Meera had never missed Samir, when she was in Rome. Had he not turned up at the airport the other night, she would not even have remembered him. He was a forgotten chapter, a part of her past which had suddenly been dug up by a twist of fate.
And now that they had met, it was the most natural thing to take up where they had left off. Meera knew that Samir was too practical to ever think of leaving Nina. He just wanted to have his cake and eat it too. It was very likely that he would have an affair with her as long as it suited him and then return to his wife.
There was no doubt about the fact that he liked Meera very much and loved her much more than he loved Nina. At the same time, he was one of those people who would not take the trouble of changing their lifestyle very drastically. He wouldn’t have time to run around for a divorce and then marry his sweetheart, or pay alimony. He would rather devote that time to further his career. It would be much simpler for him to have his wife and an affair on the sly.
Meera found the entire situation quite funny. She laughed at her predicament. “No, I don’t love him enough to be his lover,” she decided “nor do I have the patience to play second fiddle. I would much rather concentrate on my career and find a new man.”
The next morning, Nina found her packing her suitcases.
“Why, you are leaving so soon!” she exclaimed.
“Yes. Ninsy darling, I’ve got a job waiting for me at Calcutta, I must go and take it up,” replied Meera cheerfully.
“You said you were free for an entire fortnight. It’s only been a week.”
“I know Nina. As a matter of fact, I was going to join them after another week, but I am getting so bored. I might as well join a week earlier.”
Nina was quite disappointed.
“I’ll take a couple of days off and we can go around shopping etc.”
“Sorry Nina, next time perhaps Right now I am not in a mood for shopping.”
“Oh, I’m so disappointed.”
“Let her go Nina, she means what she says,” said Samir, who had just walked into room.
Meera looked up from her packing and saw him framed in the doorway.
“I’ll get you the ‘barfis’ I had brought for you,” Nina said, walking off to the kitchen.
“You needn’t run away from me, Cherry.” There was reproach in his voice but understanding in his eyes.
“No, Tutti, I am not running away from you but from the circumstances which have put us together again.”
“No regrets?” he quizzed.
“No regrets, whatsoever,” answered Meera firmly, locking her suitcase with finality.
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Hi Tanushree,
A nice story....Liked reading...:-)
Cindrella King
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Hi Cindrella_king,
That's a great name....and a very unusual one....
Welcome to my space...
Glad you liked the story...
Tanushree
Reply | Report Abuse
Hi Cindrella_king,
That's a great name....and a very unusual one....
Welcome to my space...
Glad you liked the story...
Tanushree
Reply | Report Abuse