18: A Silence, A Change:

It has become an unusual routine that he had developed over the past week. To hold his guitar, the only instrument he had packed along with him to Belhaven, as the windows of the store room opened out wide, inviting the late evening breeze, with that typical rush of sound waves hitting his ears, the ocean rising and falling in the exterior creating the typical rummaging sound, as his fingers holding the plectrum trailed around the strings, allowing them to pick up some aimless low nodes and he sat there, surrounded by just these sounds, which if he tried can be turned into some music.  He had been doing it, what can only be termed as getting his hands on the instrument, although he wasn’t really sure if he needed to. It was like he never really stopped using it in the first place. Whatever he tried to play, sounded good, if not necessarily perfect and he no longer remembered the reason for him not using the instrument any longer.

The tune that formed in his senses, which he even played it turning the vision to reality in that party, was like an insinuation to his sleeping music knowledge. He had this weird urge to just be around instruments and that definitely was a start. His father would be happy. That thought reminded him of the audition which he is yet to give which again, suddenly kept him on his edge to just do something with the sounds he had been hearing in his vision lately. Bringing him out of his thoughts, his phone vibrated on the table and he leaned over the guitar in his hand, to reach out picking it up lazily glancing at the caller id.

“Hey bro, you have been missed” he spoke bringing his warm voice, something that Aman hardly heard him speak. Definitely not to him. Or rather not from the moody Arnav that he was, back in India.

“Feels good to know Bhai, you sound relaxed..”

“Well, it’s the climate here, when are you flying? Your old man not letting you go yet?”

“Mr.Raizada really needs some help with that back office work Bhai, I will be there the next week, hopefully. I just called to remind you of the audition tomorrow. It’s the last entry level audition that will happen around Edinburgh and after this, the entries for this year will be closed”

“Wow! And I thought I was living in Scotland!”

“How else will the internet be useful? Bhai, you will have to give this audition, can you come on skype? I have something to show you that might help in a way…”

“Okay” Arnav plugged in his laptop connecting the internet and it took him another few minutes before logging in Skype and finally the two were connected facing each other.  “Whats up?” he said putting his guitar aside.

“Are you playing something bhai?” Aman looked quite taken aback seeing the guitar even near his boss.

“Not really..”

“Okay, so Bhai, I have some collection of international music. Some very rare ones of Korean, African and Russian languages. I was thinking maybe you might want to hear these out, mix them and come up with something?” Aman showed him some of the DVDs he had managed to pick and also pointed out few tracks, as he shared those files over the application.

‘This is like the technical level of music stealing that we do…”

“bhai….”

“Actually, I’m quite bored Aman. And I know you are dying to hear me refuse these right away. So, let me just make you happy”

“Really Bhai?” Aman’s face suddenly beamed up, with new found excitement.

“Well, I don’t know what is it making me say this, but yes, I’ll try to play something on my own”

If Aman was surprised, he didn’t show it on his face. Over the years of playing his loyal disciple, Aman has learned as much to keep his emotions at bay. Just like him. And he knew it. He looked on as Aman gave him one long stare of confusion combined with glee and then the moment broke away, when Arnav heard the familiar sound of a door being shut in the distance. He checked his time on the wrist watch. Quite late in the night. She was home.

“Have you, uh, been playing some music with Khushi bhai?”  

Aman asked out of nowhere causing Arnav to shift his attention completely back to his laptop screen. “What no!!? Why do you ask?” his question was rapid, as if to show he was annoyed even at the mere idea.

“uh, its just that, erm, never mind. I’ve got to go Bhai. Wish you all the best”

“Thanks. And be here soon. I’m sure the old man is getting on your nerves.”

With that the call ended and he walked out of the room just in time to see Khushi cuddling beside a sleeping Sameer on the couch and behind her was Coco, mirroring her actions. This was also something he had been observing every day. And just like it happened every night, Sameer talked sweet nothings to her, while she continued to keep her bitchy act intact, which was then followed by Sameer calling for dinner,  inviting Arnav along with him. Back in the dining hall, the three of them ate in silence, like they have been doing in the past one week.  It was like the time has slowed down, eventually to turn his life into this pace. He didn’t know what he had been doing since the time he had come to this part of the world, but in the last few days, he started to think if there was a reason why he was here. And he is yet to find that out.

Thinking of a random tune by himself was something he didn’t think he would ever be able to do again. But that happened, all too inevitably. Relishing certain times of an almost non-existing past has also happened inevitably to him. And he was surprised to find himself thinking of her, or rather them, more than he ever had. It made him curious. Of him, of them.

And like they were reliving the memories they have just visited, they really were spending some silent moments together. As if they were aware of what the other person had been thinking of. The time that demanded their silence, a rest from the war that they always seemed to have. It was like someone clearly showed them a picture of some old days to them and advised—see you both, if tried can actually be good to each other.

And it turns out that they both were in the same page. Because they indeed were having dinner in silence. Not caring to pass a comment on the other nor making an effort to annoy the other. They were just being two civil people, eating dinner sitting across the table and there was one person definitely benefited with this sudden change in the air. Sameer was a relaxed man. Finally.

**

He finished the dinner, exchanged his good-nights with Sameer, silently exchanging another look of acknowledgment with her and walked into his room in the store. He fixed his guitar in his hand and silently waited for it to happen again. After an hour or so, just like he had been noticing every day in the past week, he saw her jump from the door behind her room onto the sea-shore, with a back-pack intact at her shoulder and she walked towards the sea, in the same direction that she went every day, around the same time. Only today, he was curious beyond a limit. He fastened a sweat shirt over his shirt, covered his head inside the hood of the shirt and jumped out, just a few meters away from her, and walked with a mission to stalk her.

He hid behind the bushes occasionally, as she walked ahead of him along the shore towards a boat-resting area. He found a place behind a huge boat and effectively covered himself, as she continued to walk towards the smaller motor boats resting at the shore, tied to the railing that held a small harbor. He then saw her untie one of the ropes of a single speed boat, dropping her back pack into the boat’s cavity and positioned herself behind the wheel. Within the next few moments, the boat uttered a sound, the engine being ignited to power, as she wheeled away through the valley of waves, leaving behind and thick, white foam of water path. He was all but appalled, yet amused.

This was it? He wondered but he knew there was more to her sneaking away from home. It more seemed like some secret invasion that she had set herself into. And so, he stood where he was observing her little journey through the waves towards the center of the ocean. The boat travelled with a remarkable speed and it eventually slowed down when it reached a small island. An islet rather. An uplifted land featuring an atoll and covering it was thick grass, as much as he could see it in the darkness. He tried to recall if he had seen it clearly during the day and all he remembered was some green stack of uplifted land over the water bed.

He kept his eyes on the distant shadow figure of her, as she jumped down onto the land that rather was like a slope before she dragged the motor boat and tied it to a thick branch. She then fetched her back pack and walked across the islet and disappeared behind the mount of it that completely blocked his view. By then, he was beyond curious. He contemplated looking at the deserted islet for few long minutes and he found himself pondering over the thought, if he should follow her.  Something inside him suggested that he should and the decision was made instantaneously.   

After walking along the harbor for good few minutes, taking his time, he chose the not-so-loud engine boat, instead of the motor, just to make sure he wouldn’t scare her away. Or maybe he still wanted to stalk, not making her attentive. Nevertheless, he found himself sailing through the waves, towards the islet several minutes later, allowing her, her own sweet me-time alone at that deserted place. No sooner than he reached the edge of sloping land, he finally heard what he was hoping he would. And in that very instant he knew what forced him to follow her out of all odds. He knew what was driving him to go behind her and what it was that made him curious enough to stalk her all the way here.

He stepped onto the grassy uneven land, climbing the little slopes, and he started to hear the humming more and more clearly, filling him with some kind of unknown serenity, all of a sudden. It was her voice. She was humming. And there were soft guitar strings echoing along with her voice. He was right. It was guitar that she carried in that back pack. He took another step taking the small curve in the mount and there she was sitting over a stone, positioning her one leg over another stone, as she held the guitar all too professionally over her lap. The light house at a small distance away from them provided the required illumination in the darkness and he stood there observing her for another few long moments. Dressed in a light colored shaggy jeans and a sleeveless white tee, as he could see her side posture, her hair the artificial redness of which was starting to wither off, blew in all areas around her face, her hands positioning the guitar over her lap even as her fingers trailed along the strings of the instrument, creating soft rhythms, and as much exquisite as she looked in that exact moment, what stood apart mostly for him was her humming voice.

Kahaan hoon main
Kahaan hoon main ab..

When was the last time he heard her sing? He didn’t know, he didn’t remember rather. And so he tried to recall. It should be the one time when she made this amazing tune for a competition, which he later modified to make it flawless. He tried to remember the lines of that song they have created together.

Ye tumhari, meri baatein. Cathy helped her with the lyrics. He remembered. But then he also recalled, it possibly wasn’t the last time he heard her sing. There was this other time as well;which he rather would not want to recall at this moment. But what he particularly was trying to remember was the way her voice sounded back then. Definitely it was much younger, but the texture of it remained the same. He attributed as much. She had one of those voices, which sounded nothing like the one when she speaks. It was like she had two different voices to serve the both purposes. A little husky, not too sweet, yet deep, and when she takes that typical high node, it becomes unbelievably thin. Something that marks her voice apart from all the female voices that he ever heard. And now he was hearing it again. He felt rejuvenated.

Aahein, darr, khushi, raaste
Kachchi baatein, sachche vaaste
Kahin pe in sab mein
Kahaan hoon.. main ?

She sounded deep. The tune sounded soulful, meaningful, thoughtful. And all because there were words with the tune as well, not just some mere tune. A tune which he can probably think of, could sound soulful, meaningful and might also seem like it was trying to convey something. But whatever the sense could be, it would only be him who would be able to comprehend it. Nobody but him. But if a tune has words associated with it, the meaning was conveyed better. It makes sense. Perfect sense.

Where was she? She was finding herself.

The message was communicated to her audience. At that moment it was just him. And he heard her loud and clear.

And just as he was listening to her, completely attuned to her, she started to swing a little, allowing the instrument in her hand to pitch in, into some rhythm. He could tell she was trying to pitch in a right rhythm, and was not satisfied with herself. She picked up her book, wrote some notes, scratched it, rewrote again, and set it back aside, her hands resuming over the strings. And she played again. Whatever it was that she managed to tune in, sounded good enough. If not perfect. Thinking of a perfect rhythm to her enthralling tune was more of his area of expertise. And it was that moment that he knew why he was in this part of the world in the most absurd way possible. Yet it made sense.

Maine bhi toh aana tha isi taraf
Meri bhi toh raahein hain yahin kahin
Uljhano ke do raahe
Raaston ki ye baahein
Aate-jaate poochhti..
Main kahaan...?

He closed his eyes completely in awe of the choice of her words and then he felt himself drifting away into some deep trance. Mesmerizing. Magical. Blissfull.

Kahaan hoon, main..

Ab….

“Uh, uh, try taking it a little low..” he said with his eyes still closed and a moment after he said that out and loud is when he realized he had effectively managed to interrupt her. Or rather startle her.

He opened his eyes just in time to see her one foot loose balance over the muddy stone on which it had been resting. She jerked, the stone tilted, she turned and it fell into the water creating that splashing sound. But that was not all. She turned around swiftly completely oblivious to her imbalance of one leg causing her other leg to lose balance as well and the next moment he knew, she did a reverse wave throwing the guitar away into the water, and she fell but held herself to a sharp muddy stone at the edge of the islet with her hands gripping around the linear stone, allowing the rest of her body to hang above the water.

“Khushi!”

He reached her in a split second and sat down, offering his hand for to help. “Come on!” he said when he noticed that she actually was holding onto her notebook instead of the stone at the edge. It so happened that in her little fall, the book fell, tumbled down and the stone prevented it from falling. She chose to grip the book which in turn was forced to a stop by the stone and the whole little debacle, seemed ridiculous to him.

“Arnav! Arnav! I cant swim!” she finally uttered, her voice in panic, as she took turns to look behind her and at him, her eyes filling her face.

“Yeah, I know. Come on! Let go of the book Khushi and take my hand, so I could pull you up!”

That’s when she finally noticed what she was holding on to. Her eyes widened more, only if that was possible. “NO!” she cried.

“What!?” he uttered incredulously.

“You might just take the book away and leave me here, alone!”

“— ARE YOU INSANE?! Do you seriously think I’m that inhuman?”

“I don’t know! You always have had an eye for my notebook…”

“This looks like a perfect time to discuss our indifference, isn’t it?”

She just looked at him, with her narrowed gaze, a little innocence, a little pout and huge amount of panic all evident in her eyes. “WILL YOU FOR FUCK’S SAKE STOP WASTING TIME AND LET GO OFF THE BOOK!?”

He yelled and she was appalled. “Promise that you won’t run away with the book?”

He sighed impatiently. “I promise. I’m least concerned about your notebook, or whatever it is inside it. How about you letting go off the book, I’ll place it right here. Come on. You have to do this in a split second. Leave the book and take my hand”

But it wasn’t really that easy. She did leave the book and the stone was too moist and slippery that she didn’t really have enough time to hang on before he could grab her. And she fell, splashing water on his face.  It didn’t take him much to decide, and he jumped to her rescue. He grabbed her drowning self, amidst her squeals and dragged her along with him as he swam in the ocean, which thankfully was silent and calm in the night. Instead of swimming to the little high, slippery land of the Islet, he chose to swim towards the engine boat in which he had come. He dragged in her water towards it, whilst swimming and helped her to jump inside the boat cavity, with his one hand holding the anchored boat in place while the other helped her to climb into it. Once she was settled inside, he placed his hands on the rim of the boat attempting to climb, when she offered her hand from above causing him to lift his eyes to look at her.

She was coughing, splitting out the salty water she might have gulped. Her attire all wet. Her wet hair sticking to the sides of her face, and her face void of any expressions. Just plain, pale, innate face of hers. Like she had just been washed away from all the thoughts and her face was just breathtakingly spanking. He took her hand, and allowed her to pull him up. Once inside, they wandered off to the two edges of the boat composing and drying themselves as much as they could, occasionally giving awkward glances. But the little peaceful moment, didn’t last long. She got up all of a sudden, looked around in panic and the next moment he knew, she was reaching the edge of the boat to jump again.

He reached out in a whim to stop her holding the both of her shoulders.

“What the..?! What now?”

“Guitar!” she said still in the trance of her panic mind and he looked at the direction in which she was looking. The guitar was floating over the water, not much away from their boat.

She pushed him away and reached again towards the edge. He pulled her in. She was persistent, stubborn as she pushed him again. “Let go”

He pulled her back in. “Wait!” he clenched his teeth, holding the both of her arms tight.

“No! I need to get it, let go!”

“I said WAIT!!” he yelled.

“NO!! If I don’t have the one thing that I retained of my mom, I’d rather die!” she yelled back and it was his turn to be stumped. Alarmed. Shocked and all that. He looked into the pools of her eyes and she looked back into his. A moment of cognizance of a common pain that they both shared, yet neither aware of the extent of it. The moment came and passed, when he finally let go off her hands, pushed her away into the boat and jumped yet again into the ocean. He swam, picked up the guitar, patted his limbs against the water finding his way back into the boat, all in some new found thoughtful trance.

She took the guitar away from his hands as soon as he joined her, and walked away to her corner of the boat. He observed her for a minute, confused and baffled, before walking to his side, still observing her all the way. She wiped the water away from the base of the instrument, blew air, attempted all she could and it only resulted in one of the strings to be detached from his hinge. She pouted and as an instant reaction looked up at him. They exchanged another long stare, both quite clueless if a conversation should be started, when he finally let go off the anchor hinge of the boat and turned the engine wheel, to start their voyage back to the shore.

It indeed was a long night. But the journey was not yet accomplished. Neither the literal, nor the one within. It had only just begun.