A LOVE STORY - Episode 4

A LOVE STORY​

​

A Serial By Varalotti Rengasamy​

Episode 4​

It was around <st1:time hour="23" minute="0">11 PM</st1:time> in the night. Arun was thinking of hitting the sack when his mobile rang. The number did not belong to any of his regular contacts.

“Arun Kumar”

“Sir, Marimuthu from KT Publications.”

Arun beamed.

“Hello Marimuthu, how are you doing? Why are you calling at this time? Any thing urgent?”

It was fifteen days after his luncheon meeting with Dr.Kamla. Nothing happened in those fifteen days.

Dr.Kamla called him only to tell that she was tied up with some of her toughest patients and had postponed their next session by another two weeks.

 

Part 2!​

​

Marimuthu was a proof reader with Arun’s publisher. He was a small time writer himself. But more than that, he was the best critic around. He could read a thousand-page manuscript in two days flat and tell his boss, whether the book would sell or not.

And with the sweetest language he could muster he would call a spade a spade, and more than that call a manuscript, ********. Whenever Arun submitted a manuscript to his publisher, he would be restless till Marimuthu Okayed it.

His publisher was willing to print whatever he wrote. But unless Marimuthu Okayed the work, Arun would not let his publisher go ahead with the book. Marimuthu had stopped two of Arun’s novels from going to print.

Apart from respect for Marimuthu’s professional skills, Arun had lots of affection for the fifty plus man and father of two lovely girls. It was at Arun’s request that Marimuthu approached his bank for an educational loan for his daughter’s engineering course.

Arun’s Manager refused to sanction the loan as Marimuthu’s income was not that good and he could not offer any collateral security for the loan. Breaking all conventions Arun offered to personally guarantee the loan thus making Marimuthu sob for ever in gratitude.

While Marimuthu loved Arun for his help, he never swerved from his duty to his boss, the publisher. It was only after getting the loan with Arun’s help that Marimuthu told Arun that two of his works were not worth publishing.

 

Part 3!​

“Sir, I started reading your new novel in the evening. I had planned to complete it in two days. But I could not put the script down. I have been reading continuously for seven hours and just now completed it.

“I know it is late. I know I am disturbing you, Sir. But certain things cannot wait. You know I walked almost a mile to this telephone booth to call you.”

Arun was afraid that he had found some major glitch in the novel. That was the novel he completed on the day he met Dr.Kamla for the first time.

“As a proof reader I have read hundreds and hundreds of books, Arun Sir. But this is simply the best. Mark my words, Writer Sir, you are going to go places with this novel.

“To my knowledge no writer has so far dealt with the subject of a woman’s unrequited love and her lonely, painful life, so deeply. I was crying all the way. We have an all-time best-seller in our hands.

“I am going to recommend a double-royalty for this work. You are going to be known to the world. Awards are going to be heaped on you."

“Thanks Marimuthu. Thanks a lot.” He also thanked Dr. Kamla in his heart.

They talked about the book for another fifteen minutes.

“Did you receive the dedication I sent along?”

“I did, sir. I will have it printed with the prominence it deserves. I am just curious to know, is this Dr. Kamla, your relative, Sir?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Is she a close relative?”

“How do you call one’s mother, Marimuthu? A close relative or a distant one?”

 

Part 4!​

“Good afternoon, Kamla. Can I see you for a few minutes?”

“Good afternoon. You are most welcome, Dr.Rao.”

Rao was there to discuss the composite treatment they were giving to a schizophrenic patient.

The discussion went on for more than an hour.

As Dr.Rao stood up to leave he asked casually about Arun.

“How is that bank clerk doing, Kamla?”

Kamla gave a brief history of Arun’s problem. About his being a famous writer about his unrequited love and the consequent depression.

“Is he still a virgin?”

“I think so, Dr. Rao. He’s still in love with that girl. Looks like he is spurning the advances of other women. Got any ideas?”

Dr. Rao was famous for his quick-fix, out of the box solutions.

“A quick way out for him is to have a good sexual relationship. Ask him to go to a call girl. He’ll be cured.”

“Have you ever been in love, Dr. Rao?”

“I never had time for that kind of ********. Only after having sexual relationship with my wife for several years I am now planning to love her. I am yet to implement my plan.

“Making love is a whole lot easier than falling in love. It’s for softer persons like Kumar. You should have seen him before he proposed to you.

“He was acting like a mono maniac - constantly thinking of you, talking about you, repeating your name as if it were a mantra.

“My God! Had you refused his love, he would have become another Arun Kumar.”

“But Kamla, why are you hitting yourself on your head? Did you do anything wrong?”

“Not one, Dr. Rao. I did two things wrong. First, I asked for ideas from the wrong person; that is you. Second, I did not ask the right person, that is Kumar.”

Rao laughed derisively and walked out of her cabin.

 

Part 5!​

Kumar was listening to Kamla’s narration with closed eyes and an open mind. Kamla had taken detailed notes about Arun’s story and was reading from the notes.

“Kumar, I’m in a fix. How to lead him out of his depression? There is no point in Arun still longing for Vidya, who by this time might be happily married and a mother of two children.

“Can I steel my heart and tell him to forget Vidya and marry somebody else? Or should I pass him over to Dr.Rao, for his chemical imbalance therapy?”

“Not yet, honey. You know I am a die-hard romantic. And to me there is nothing called love failure.

“Because love never fails. Arun’s love looks very genuine and very intense. Continue what you are doing till the path ahead is shown to you.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Kumar. Arun is already 31. I don’t want him to stay single all his life because he fell in love with a head-strong girl ten years back.

“I am not able to see what future holds for him. I can continue the therapy for six months. But after that…

Kumar stood up from his seat and came near her. He placed his hands on her shoulder and talked softly.

“Do you remember the time we had to drive down to <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City>? I think it was last year. It was late in the night. Our car’s headlights could show only the next 100 feet.

“But with that light didn’t we travel the entire stretch – some 200 miles plus? We can’t expect our car’s lights to illuminate the entire road to <st1:City><st1lace>Bangalore</st1lace></st1:City> from here.

“Enough we know what is there in the next hundred feet. Of course we believed in the road. Ask your friend to believe in God. He is the one who’ll show the road.

“And don’t ever try to illuminate the way with your intellectual headlights, dear.”

Post retirement Kumar had been into a lot of divine literature. In a way his immense love for his wife, his daughter and his work, evolved into a sublime love for God.

And that love often issued out in his speech and actions.

Kamla bent down and kissed Kumar’s hand that was resting on her right shoulder. That was her way of acknowledging the wisdom in his words.

The couple stayed blissfully silent for a while.

 

Part 6!​

“It has been a long wait, Doctor.”

These were the first words Arun spoke to Kamla as she entered the hotel lobby and greeted Arun. Kamla had fixed a dinner meeting for them at <st1lace><st1laceType>Hotel</st1laceType> <st1laceType>Park</st1laceType></st1lace> near the Anna Flyover.

It was a lovely Saturday evening. Kamla was seeing Arun almost after a month’s interval. Arun looked even more handsome in his close neck, full sleeves black T-shirt and beige slacks. Kamla was dressed in a shining chumkee saree.

“Sorry, Arun. Was into so many things. Dr.Rao and I had to manage a violent schizophrenic and that sapped all our energies.”

They adjourned to the corner table which Kamla had booked in advance. Kamla placed a double order of fruit chat and vegetable spring rolls.

“Let’s continue the story, Arun. A couple of things before you start. First, I want to have our conversation recorded, if you don’t mind. “

Kamla placed a small Sony IC Recorder on the table.

“No probs, Doctor.”

“Do you believe in God, Arun?”

“I want to, Doctor. But I can’t. After losing my mother, after living with my father, unable to win over Vidya’s love, well, Doctor, I can’t bring myself to believe in God.

“But tell me Doctor, are you asking this question as my friend or as my therapist?”

“More as a therapist, Arun. I don’t want to impose my belief system on you. But as a psychiatrist of more than 25 years of professional standing, I tell you, God is the best anti-depressant available to us today.”

“If there’s a God and he’s good, why should he take away my mother from me, when I was just 12? Why should he make me born as the son of the only man in the whole world who can never understand me?”

“As an argument atheism looks fine. But as a way of life, belief in God and an active loving relationship with Him does wonders.”

Arun was not in a mood to argue with Kamla.

“Ok, Doctor. For your sake, I’ll believe in God. Do you insist that I should worship in any particular form of God?”

“No, Arun. I leave that to you”

“Why can’t I worship God in your form, Doctor?”

 

Part 7!​

Kamla dropped the glass from which she was drinking water. The waiter hearing the sound of breaking glass rushed to the place to clean up the mess.

Arun had a beautiful smile on his face.

“Yes, Doctor. Do they not say that God is love? You have nothing but love for me. So why don’t I see God in your form, Doc?”

“But…. Arun…”

“Oh, you want me to believe in a God who performs miracles, right?”

Kamla could not speak. She just nodded making strenuous efforts to hide her tears.

“Even there you fit the bill perfectly, Doctor. I was sitting on that novel for six months.

“On the day I met you, on the day you descended to the level of accepting a depressed bank clerk as your friend, I wrote for ten hours at a stretch and completed the novel.

“You may have a dozen technical words to describe that phenomenon, but laymen like me, call it a miracle, Doctor.”

“ ”

“And you know what, my editor at the publishers called me up at eleven o clock in the night to say that that was the best book he had ever read in his career. So you made me work. And made me do the finest work of my life time.”

“ ”

“But do you want me to believe in the omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent God? God with a capital G and with all those powers that human minds alone can imagine? It is very easy to love such a God, Doc.

“There is a selfish motive in us when we fall in love with the all powerful God. We tend to think that the God, who can create a million universes before we can blink, can easily solve our marital problems or our financial difficulties or get us a Booker Prize.

“But when I believe in God in your form, I don’t have that kind of unrealistic desires. I know your love. And I don’t expect you to solve any of my problems or recommend my name for Booker. And I am happy just with your love and friendship, Doc.”

“ ”

“I once read a poem written by an obscure South Indian poet. He tells God, the God he has been loving and worshipping all his life:

“Oh, God, even if tomorrow you are proved not to exist and that some other God is the real God, I don’t want to be saved by that God.

“Do you think that I will switch sides because the other God is more powerful? Then my life time of love and devotion to you will be a sham. I’ll rather be damned by you than be saved by the Other God.”

“ ”

“Ok, let’s even forget that, Doc. What does our divine literature say? To worship God’s devotees is even more sacred than worshipping God himself. Right?”

“ ”

“You believe in God, Doctor. I believe in you. And I am just obeying our sacred texts.”

Kamla’s responses to Arun’s words were nothing more than blank spaces enclosed within quotation marks.

Kamla could not control her tears anymore. She blurted out some excuses and almost ran to the rest room.

 

Part 8!​

Kamla returned to their table after ten minutes. She could not simply bear the outpouring of love from the young writer.

It was only at the instance of Kumar did she broach the subject of God to Arun. She wanted to tell Arun’s words to Kumar. She was eager to see Kumar’s response.

She ordered herbal soup for both of them.

“You told me about your visit to Vidya’s house. How you cried there unable to express your love. Was that the closest you got to her?”

“Well, I did meet her alone in another occasion. That was another historical meeting.

“But for Vidya, I won’t be a writer today, Doctor. But before that you should know how I was ruthlessly pushed into the B.Com. course.”

Kamla was all ears.

 

Part 9!​

Arun’s father made him choose “Commerce” Group for his Plus Two. Arun’s father was arranging Arun’s affairs in such a way that he was slowly inching towards his life time ambition – of becoming a clerk in a Government Bank.

When it was time for Arun to choose his degree course, as it always happened, a tripartite conversation ensued – Arun, his father and his heart.

The rules were the same. Arun’s father talked at him. Arun nodded or mumbled weakly to his father, while Arun’s heart was shouting at the top of its voice.

Arun: Dad, I have got the application forms for Degree course.

Father: Ok, what are you waiting for? Just fill them up.

Arun: But what Major should I choose?

Father: Dumb question, Arun. It’s all decided. It has to be B.Com. Do you want to study anything else?

Heart: YES. I WANT TO STUDY LITERATURE.

Arun: No, Dad. Whatever you say. But can I get a B.Com. seat? They say it is very difficult.

Father: You are a lucky boy, son. My bank’s Chairman has given a letter of recommendation to the College. You’ll get the seat. Don’t worry.

Heart: My luck be damned! I hate commerce and accounts. It is for clerks. Not for creative artists.

Father: Have lofty goals in life, my boy. You see I was a bank clerk. You will surely become a bank officer, and retire as a Manager.

Your son will start as a Manager and retire as an AGM. Scale 4 man! Your grandson will go to the top slot – Chairman and Managing Director.

Heart: Is that post worth three generations of strife? Three generations of unhappy lives and frustrated careers?

Father: Bank job is our swadharma, son. You know what Lord Krishna says in Gita – one should never quit his Swadharma.

Heart: Swadharma, my foot! Your father was only a farmer. Farming is our swadharma and not totalling up figures and counting currency notes!

Arun: Suppose, Dad, if I don’t get B.Com, can I apply for Literature? Can I mention it as my second preference? I don’t want to waste a year, if I don’t get B.Com.

Father: Your studying Literature will be the real waste of time. Three years! My God! To study what somebody wrote centuries ago!

If you don’t get a B.Com. seat I will get you some good buffalos. I can get a priority sector agricultural loan from my bank for that purpose. Taking care of those beasts will be a better proposition than studying Literature.

Heart: Buffalos will any day be a better option than numbers. And they sure are a better company than you.

Father: Your B.Com. seat is assured, Arun. Our bank has given a huge loan to the college. I can get a seat for you as a matter of right!

Heart: To hell with your perverted system of rights and privileges. To hell with B.Com. To hell with my life.

A tearful Arun walked away from his father.

 

Part 10!​

It was the lunch hour. Arun was walking towards the small eating joint opposite to their college. He had not brought lunch from home and with whatever small money he had he could not afford to eat at the college canteen.

The joint offered a variety of mixed rice at very low prices.

“Hi, Arun.. Arun… ARUN.. I say.. stop man… Why are you walking so fast?”

Arun turned to see Vidya almost running towards him.

“Are you going home? Are you skipping the afternoon classes?”

“No, Vidya. I haven’t brought lunch today. I don’t have enough money to eat at our canteen. So I am going to Rama Vilas.”

“Thank God. The curd rice I brought for my lunch has gone sour. And I don’t have any money with me. Do you mind, if I join you?”

Arun did not know what to say. He did not have enough money to order lunch for two. Vidya read his thoughts.

“I eat very little, Arun. I will take a small portion of whatever you order. Is it okay with you?”

“Ok.”

Arun’s heart had very strange feelings. On the one hand it was jumping in joy because Vidya was going to give him company. And that company would make the dull and dusty Ramavilas ambience a heaven on earth.

But there was also a kind of sadness. After all Vidya was not his girl. She was his best friend’s lover. Sundar would have told Vidya that it was perfectly okay for her to move with Arun.

That was the kind of confidence Sundar had placed in Arun. ‘No, Sundar, I’ll never betray your trust.’

While Vidya talked to him as a friend, Arun talked to her as if she were his friend’s wife.

Food was not ready at Rama Vilas. They had to wait for ten minutes. And that ten minutes changed Arun’s life.

Arun was silently looking at Vidya. She was wearing a yellow skirt, an yellow blouse and a green half saree. She was chatting about their lecturers and classmates. The moment they had the privacy of a corner seat Vidya became serious.