Sunday, March 14, 2010

you are still here

Manika was an adult now. Her definition of adult was constructed from the fact that “ you grow into an adult when you make money of your own..when you are self dependent “
And she preached it too often to her friends and her juniors in college. She had the most lucrative degree, was an engineer. Successfully graduated from a premier institute. She was very happy about the four years getting over. Being a friendly person she made a lot of contacts during her college life. Some dear , some very dear. But she somehow lost interest in them when she entered the corporate world. No one had expected this turn of fate, but she gambled well with emotions, and thought, and moved on .
It was her first day of her joining the company. Very elated of the fact she got ready very well, just as she used to get in her college parties, touched up her introduction lines, like she did while she entered college, got some information of the who’s who of company..same as she did before entering the college, and wondered, has it moved on?
It was her night shift, and she got a call. She picked up, it was an unknown number. “ any body there?? “
And no one responded. She could make out its someone very close to her. She crosschecked with all her previous contacts on her email list. But then all in vain. She found nothing.
With days passing by she got more and more busy with her new life. Clubbing , projects , training.. it came all too much and too well also. She was enjoying every bit of it. but felt empty at times when she thought of her old days. Some thing lingered about her past. She still wasn’t away being away. The only thing she came across every single day was a call at night..just like she had on the day of her joining. She sometimes picked it..sometimes yelled on the silent listener and sometimes just dint bother to consider it ringing. Out of inquisitiveness she even made friends with all the boys there  who oogled her, just to check if they are the ones calling. It wasn’t the case either.
She lived in a PG with her professional subordinates . one day she was all alone in the flat watching TV. And came her favourite programme Dance India Dance ...and she immediately scanned for a number in her cell phone to give a missed call, only to realise she’s not where she still thinks to be.
Later one night, she was fast asleep when her roommate came and knocked the door. She shouted from the door “chotu wait I’m coming” and ran to open the door...only to realise she wasn’t the one she had expected to be. She was not overworked. But she knew what was missing. The calls at night did continue all through. And she used to think ...what does it take to stay connected?
An year passed so on and she decided to leave her job for the sake of further studies.  It was again a night shift. And an email pop up came. The mail read
“ I used to knock at your door every night till an year ago...meanwhile this year I just had the option to call and check whether you have slept or not..not to talk...coz I know you had decided to move on..but just to make each day complete. Neither a day passed at that time without you, nor does it now.
Now even I’m out of college. The doors haven’t dreaded me so much...never have I been so obsessed with a room number.
I still miss you boss. Lots of chit chats due...
Chatter box “