Second Cousin

It was just another mundane Monday in my life. Poor Mondays! They are hated by most of us, and I am no different. As usual, I was waiting for the Metro at Pitampura metro station. I use it 6 days in a week to reach my office at Connaught Place. That’s where I work as a marketing executive. Let me tell you, 6-days-a-week work schedule sucks!

The timeboard indicated 3:00. Ideally, the next Metro was to reach the station in another 3 minutes. As I waited standing in one of the metro-staff-maintained queues, somebody caught my attention.

Well, I can write pages on this gal, but I’ll rather keep it short. She was an amazingly beautiful girl, pretty much like a cute doll who has put on some weight. Okay, I have this strange liking for slightly plump girls, provided they are charming, sweet, bubbly, and have innocence marked all over their face. The girl in picture fitted the bill.

She was right in front of the queue next to mine. As the metro halted at the station, people lost their senses. The mad rush ushered in, everybody hoping to be one of the few lucky ones to grab a seat. Way back in the queue, I had no chance anyways.

A minute more and the gal was out of sight. As the automated doors got shut, the air conditioning effect started to show signs of death. I was not much bothered about the temperature though. I started to look for the damsel.

Luckily, she was right there, occupying one of the Ladies Only seats, sitting quietly. People still had courtesy, I thought. I managed to stand next to her, clenching one of the support handles. As far as I remember, I have been commuting by Metro for the last 5-6 months, but never had I developed so much fondness for any of the commuters.

A man in his 30s was sitting next to her. At each station, as the metro train stopped for a while, I wanted the gal to stay and the man to leave. He stared at the girl whenever he got a chance. Okay, okay, even I was gazing at her, but I had my intentions right. Who knew what this man was like?

God heard me. The filthy man’s journey ended at Shastri Nagar station. And it was the beginning of my journey, with the lass. As the man stood up, I quickly pounced upon the now vacant seat.

“Thank you uncle,” I greeted the man with a fake smile. He gave me a dirty look on being treated an uncle, and a final dirty look to the gal. Bastard!

Anyways, he was now not in the picture, and will never be again. This is what happens when you travel and meet people. There are slim chances that you’ll meet them again. But wasn’t it true for this girl too? The thought scared me.

She was busy reading a novel. I couldn’t figure out which one. Was the book title important? No, not at all! I wanted to initiate conversation with her, anyhow. The time was running by, and I had to think fast. Then, the notion struck me. The title was indeed important, atleast to strike the conversation.

“Which one?” I asked hesitatingly.

“Sorry…,” she looked straight into my eyes. My heart stopped beating for a second. Thankfully, the beat resumed after that one second.

Girls come with a Handle With Care tag, and I am ought to remember that. Her Sorry…probably meant Who the hell are you, and why are you talking to me when I don’t know you.

“Sorry, didn’t get your question.” Oh, so the hell was at bay at the moment. It was the question of not getting my question.

“I mean…I mean, which novel is this?” I fumbled.

“Oh, this one. The latest by Chetan Bhagat. 2 states – the story of my marriage. I just love him,” she replied, with a twinkle in her eyes. I wish I was Chetan Bhagat.

“Absolutely. Great writer,” I supported her view. Honestly, I had never heard of him.

“So, where are you heading to?” I wanted to learn how much more time I had.

“The next station,” she stood up as she replied. She would be out of my sight in a couple of minutes, and that would be terrible for me.

I had to think of something, quickly, something which could stop her. As she stepped out of metro, I shouted, “I know something very interesting about the man you love.” I don’t know what did I say and why, but it helped.

“About Chetan Bhagat,” she exclaimed. “Okay, mail me. niharika_87gal@hotmail.com”

At times, mail IDs tell you more than you ask for. Her name was Niharika, and she was around 22, and that she was a gal, of course! I wanted to tell her she had a lovely name. I did that when I mailed her. I also mentioned it was fantastic talking to her, and that she was charming.

This is what she replied:
“Hi. What was the interesting fact you wanted to tell me, about CB.

Regards,

Niharika Chauhan”

Gosh! She was least bothered about what I wrote about her, for her. All she was concerned about was CB. I again wished I was him.

Fuming, I did not reply to her for a few days. But that made things worse. I kept thinking about her. Then, I mailed her:
“Hey. I know Chetan personally :) I am one of his second cousins.”

I had no clue whether she would buy this or not. Apparently, she did.

“Hi. It’s great to know this!

Regards,

Niharika Chauhan

9910071633”

What was that supposed to mean? I did notice the addition to her signature, of course I did. Should I call her? Yes I should. That was a clean hint. I mustered courage and called her up after 2 days.

“Hello. Whoz this?” she asked in a firm tone.

“Adesh,” I replied softly.

“Adesh, who?” Of course, I was no Barack Obama.

“Adesh…Metro…Chetan Bhagat,” I summarized.

“Oh, Hi! Howz my CB?” Now this was extreme. Again…CB. What about me, someone who had spent sleepless nights thinking about her? I wanted to hang up.

“Fantastic. He is doing great,” I said, rather sarcastically. “By the way, he is married,” I warned her.

“Haan, I know. But I am a big, big, big fan of his.” I wondered how big.

“Anyways, so how are you?” Ok, so I did exist.

“I am fine, almost,” stressing extra bit on almost.

“I am doing good too,” she added. Did I ask?

“So, when can we meet up?” She popped up this question when I was way too pissed off.

“Why?”

“Well, there’s a lot to talk about. You know CB so well and…”

“And?” I interrupted.

“And I want to meet you. Kab mil sakte hain?” It sounded more of an order than a request.

I could have refused, but I liked her a lot. Her glance in the Metro that day…still set my heart racing. So what if she would only talk about her love interest and I would have to construct all sorts of stories; atleast she would be there with me!

I prepared a possible questionnaire I could be confronted w.r.t. Chetan Bhagat. I struggled a lot gathering information about someone I had not even heard about, about someone I was least interested in. It was tough, but it was all for Niharika.

I had a sense of déjà vu when I met her. She asked me everything about CB I hadn’t prepared for. That always used to occur to me during exams, during the school days. Whatever set of expected questions I used to prepare for, they never appeared. I guess I have always been like that, a bad guesser.

I had a real tough time facing her, but had to ensure she doesn’t catch my bluff. At the end of it, it seemed I had won the QA round. She sounded excited all the time she conversed with me, talking about Chetan Bhagat, his work, his upcoming projects, and what not. Is a second cousin supposed to know all this about a celebrity brother, I wondered.

We met again, and again. We mostly talked about him only, but that didn’t matter much to me now. I had fallen in love. Gradually, she did shift her focus to me, but I wondered if I was just a ladder to reach Chetan Bhagat, the man she admired so much. She hinted multiple times that she wanted to meet CB. For obvious reasons, I always pretended I never understood what she wanted. Then one day, she was straight-forward.

“Listen, I want to meet my idol. I really do,” she amicably placed her hand over mine while we were sipping Coke at McDonalds. I would call that emotional blackmailing. I did not want to refuse, but this was something beyond my reach. I could not gulp down the soft drink any more.

“Yes, why not. Anytime.” I exuded so much aplomb while making this stupid commitment. I ain’t sure if even his real second cousin would have been so sure about making her meet CB.

“Really! Oh thank you so much. Love you,” she said excitedly, flashing a big, lovely smile. I love you too, I wanted to confess.

I told Niharika bhaiyaa is out of town and will be back in 2 weeks’ time. This meant she was with me for another two weeks. But that was it. Once the truth would be out in the open, she’s gonna leave me. Worse, she is going to hate me, forever.

We met daily. As we spent more and more time together, Niharika shared a lot about her personal life. Those were the golden days of my life. I prayed to God for a miracle to happen. Split from Niharika now meant death. Then God flashed a signal.

Chetan was on a visit to the neighbouring town, to speak on Gen-X potential and the contribution today’s youth can make to the society. I decided to attend the session. No, no…I was least bothered about contributing to society. But I had to meet Chetan.

“…so now you know how you all can make a difference. Right guys?” The entire hall clapped in unison while I was busy yawning as Chetan Bhagat ended his speech.

“Now it’s my turn,” I murmured to myself. I waited until the famous author finished signing autographs.

“Hi Chetan. Excellent speech.”

“Thanks,” Chetan acknowledged as he hurried towards the exit.

“Listen,” I shouted. “I need you.”

“Need me?”

“Yes,” I answered and ran towards him. I narrated the whole incident, involving me and Niharika.

“I want you to act as my cousin…second cousin, for a day.” Chetan stared at me with this are-you-in-your-senses look on his face.

“Okay fine, for a few hours…,” I tried reducing the time frame. The expression remained unchanged.

“See, I know you are a busy man. But my love life is at stake. You have to do this for me,” I pleaded. “I love her as much as you love writing.” I don’t know if this comparison made any sense, but Mr. Bhagat seemed to have got it.

“Okay. All is fair in love and war. I will do this for love,” Chetan agreed.

“Thank you so much!”

Chetan told me he would be coming to Delhi for an interview, and that is when he can help me win my love. He was nice enough to share his cell number, and I promised it would not be leaked. I had started to understand his fan following.

“Two hours. Won’t be able to stretch beyond that,” Chetan made it clear as he left. I nodded in agreement. Something is always better than nothing, I recalled the old adage.

Niharika hugged me when I met her after I was back home. She hugged me again when I told her she would be meeting her idol next week.

Everything shaped up as planned. It was Chetan who fixed the meeting venue and time. As I entered The Retreat I noticed Chetan waiting for us at the reserved table. The fans kept him busy meanwhile.

“Hope I am not late,” I grinned.

“Where is she?” Chetan seemed curious to meet her. Of course, she was the reason he was here.

“There she comes,” I announced as the gorgeous gal entered the dimly-lit food joint.

I expected her to jump in joy as she approached Mr. Bhagat, the moment she had been waiting for so long. But that didn’t happen. She was rather calm and composed.

“Hey CB. How are you? Never thought we would meet like this,” she winked at CB. Now what was that?


Before I could analyse the situation, Chetan interrupted my thoughts. “Oh, by the way, this is Niharika, my second cousin,” Chetan introduced her to me. I sat there, bewildered.

“And bhaiyaa, he is Adesh, the love of my life,” she blushingly looked at me. I was speechless. It’s like you announce to a beggar that he had just won for himself a lottery with prize money of 50 lakhs.

“You guys enjoy. I guess you have a lot to talk about,” Chetan smiled and left in a jiffy.

There was pin-drop silence for a few seconds. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you already knew…,” and she silenced me with her fingers across my lips. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Boys do cry.

I leaned forward and kissed her gently. She put her arms around me and whispered…I love you.


(End of story)