A LOVE STORY - Episode 5

A LOVE STORY​

​

A Serial By Varalotti Rengasamy​

Episode 5​

The small technical gadget not larger than the size of two fingers, Sony ICP P 520, integrated circuit recorder having a capacity of recording continuously for 130 hours was greedily capturing every word that came from Arun.

“After that Rama Vilas meeting, I got some courage. And tried twice to tell Vidya about my love. Once I wrote a love letter to her and with a shivering heart went in search of her.

Somebody told me that she was playing chess with Bhaskar in the Indoor Games Hall of the college.

I went there. I saw them and quickly planned the logistics. I planned to go behind Vidya and drop my letter in her hand-bag.

As I went near Vidya I heard what she was saying to Bhaskar. I could guess that Bhaskar had professed his love for her. Vidya was about to respond to him. I was waiting with a trembling heart, Doctor.

Vidya did not see me. Bhaskar did not want to see me. Vidya’s voice was no more than whisper.

But I was standing so close to her that I heard every word of what she said. As the hall was crowded I could eavesdrop on her without being very obvious.

“I appreciate your courage, Bhaskar. It requires real guts to propose to a girl. I know many boys in our college have an eye for me. But virtually nobody except one or two have had the courage to openly propose to me.”

I could almost hear the sound of my heart breaking Doctor.

“And you know I have always been frank, many times brutally so. I don’t know the art of thinking one thing and talking another. You are a genius, Bhaskar. But for you I’d have failed in stats.

“You made me get 80%, somewhere near the top of the class. And you made me love that dull subject. Hats off to you. And you are no doubt good looking.

“But Bhaskar love is not founded on such reasons. In fact you can never attribute any reason to love. Suppose I love you because you are smart then it is not real love.

“I will share a secret with you. I too am in love. Now please don’t ask me who it is. He is in our college, in our class. That’s all I can say.

Our college has many handsome boys. But to me he and he alone looks handsome. Very handsome.
And like any other love story, it is not a straight road. There are a dozen road blocks. But for his sake I am ready to clear even a hundred. And wait for him till eternity.

“Right now I am in deep trouble. One day I’ll tell you my problems and seek your help.

“Bhaskar, I want you to promise me right here, that you will continue to be friends with me and move with me in the same way you have been doing till now? Promise?”

I could not bear to see that tearful academic nerd touching Vidya’s extended hand. I silently walked out of the Hall.

I came out and tore the very first love letter and also the very last, I ever wrote. I foolishly thought that along with that piece of paper I had also destroyed the love in my heart.

And when those feelings came back with a vengeance.. My God! I couldn’t bear that, Doctor. I couldn’t... ..”

Arun looked like he was going to break down. Now it was his turn to rush to the rest room.

 

Part 2!​

He had his face washed and came back with his trade mark smile. Kamla got the courage to ask him what had been in her mind for a long time.

“But what made you think that she had fallen for Sundar?”

“I have seen them together many times. Once Sundar told me that his father was highly status-conscious and that he wanted the girl to come from a rich industrial family.

I teased him, ‘Why not marry a rich girl, Sundar? You can honeymoon in <st1:City><st1lace>Venice</st1lace></st1:City> and fly to Swiss every summer.’ Sundar told me in a sad voice, that he would rather threaten his parents that he would kill himself if they did not let him have his way.

But the key word is ‘handsome’, Doctor. I have seen her addressing Sundar as handsome many times. And she used that word while describing her lover to Bhaskar.”

“Enough for the day, Arun. I can’t bear you suffer any longer.”

As if on cue the bearer presented the bill to Arun. Arun was about to take out the credit card from his wallet when Kamla forcibly took the bill away from his hands. Arun got it back in a flash.

“No, Doctor, let me pay. It’s not fair. If I have to pay for your time it’d be several times this bill amount.”

“Look at it this way. Suppose my only daughter Priya has come down from the States. I am taking her out for dinner. Now tell me, Writer Sir, will it be nice if Priya picked up the tab?”

Arun silently passed over the bill to her

 

Part 3!​

Kumar was in his study when Kamla returned home after the dinner meeting. Kumar had had his mandatory two rounds of whiskey and a super-light dinner consisting of a dry roti and baked vegetables.

Kamla just wanted to say hi to Kumar before retiring for the day. She was surprised to see Kumar almost in a state of trance. A continuous stream of tears was flowing from his closed eyes. A book was lying open on the table.

Kamla placed his hands gently on his shoulder. He immediately recognised the presence of his beloved and placed his hand over hers.

“See this beauty, Kamla! See this depth of love! This guy has made me speechless”

Kamla was waiting for him to elaborate.

“It’s a wonderful story of love. This man, what’s his name, yes, Vishnuchittan, had won some contest in the ancient <st1lace><st1laceName>Pandya</st1laceName><st1laceType>Kingdom</st1laceType></st1lace> which was headquartered in <st1:City><st1lace>Madurai</st1lace></st1:City>.

“As per the custom he was carried on an elephant in a stately procession in the main streets of the town. The man was on the elephant and the Pandya King was walking down on the road by his side.

“The King was in effect telling the world that compared to the wisdom and devotion of the saints, he and his kingdom were but particles of dust.

“Now that’s not the point, Kamla.

“At that time the Good Lord appeared on the skies. And God told Vishnuchittan that He was highly pleased with him. And that he could ask whatever he wanted.

“Even if that guy had asked for the whole world, he would have got it before he could blink his eyes. He could have asked for immortality.

“Or a permanent place in Heavan by God’s side something similar to the Royal Box at <st1lace>Wimbledon</st1lace> where the English Royal family sits to watch the tournament. Or at least salvation, whatever that means.

“But Vishnuchittan seeing God’s eternal beauty being made so easiy available generally to one and all, was concerned.

“Yes, dear, it is written here in this book that he was worried that people might cast evil eyes on the Lord Himself. And that might affect the Lord.

“The fear was baseless. The worry was irrational. But the love is beyond all understanding.

“In a moment of supreme,selfless, motherly love this man starts to greet and even bless the Lord, with his verses.

“Forgetting who he was, forgetting that what stood before him was the Omnipotent God, who by just winking his eyes can destroy the Universe and by another wink create a million more, this man blurts out,

“Oh, God! You should live for many, many years; many thousands of years; many thousands of millions of years! May your beautiful feet be always blessed.”

“See who’s blessing whom! Don’t you see in these lines the anxiety of a mother for her child?

“And the book says that nowhere in the devotional literature of the whole world is there a comparable work. Or a similar expression of love from a human being to God.”
“Oh, Kumar, that reminds me of what Arun said today about the form of worship. I have got it recorded. Want to hear it now?”

“Sure, darling.”

 

Part 4!​

Kamla took out the recorder from her handbag, switched it on and then identified the exact part that she wanted Kumar to hear. She then hit the playback button.

“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?”

Kumar listened to the recording with closed eyes. Kamla could see tears still rolling down. Were they because of what Kumar had read earlier or what was he hearing now, she was not sure.

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

Kamla switched off the device and looked askance at Kumar.

Kumar was not in a mood to speak. He was staring at Kamla as if she were a stranger. Kamla teased him with her playful remarks.

“Sorry dear, your method failed. I tried hard; but could not make him go to God.”

Kumar stood up from his chair.

“What the hell are you talking? Why should he go to God? There is absolutely no need, Kamla. God will come to him. God will come anywhere this kid orders him to.

“If this kid were to take a piece of rock and worship that as God, then God would abandon all his abodes and come to live in that dirty rock.”

Kamla was thrown back by the sudden outburst.

“But dear, he said, that he could not believe in God.”

“Who wants belief? Millions and millions of people do believe in God, but they live the same life. Of lies, deceit and debauchery.

“God is their genie, their duly constituted attorney, their criminal lawyer, their accessory in crime, their servant, to do their impossible bidding. They have everything but love for God.

“But this kid is so full of love, Kamla. He is so full of God. The essence of God is fully blossomed in him.”

“But… I thought... if he believed in some God, it’d be easy to lead him out of depression…”


“A person who is capable of this kind of love already has the strongest faith in God, dear. The intensity of the love, its selflessness is important and not the object of love.

“Selflessly loving a street dog is far superior to loving the Omnipotent God for selfish reasons. His depression is no more than passing clouds.

“And when they pass, the sky would be even bluer and even clearer than it was before the depression set in.”

Kamla could not speak.

When Kumar spoke after a few seconds his voice was very soft.

“I am no clairvoyant, Kamla. But mark my words; this kid is going to be one of the greatest writers the world has ever seen. And more important than that he is going to be one of the happiest human beings God has ever created.

“Anybody who tries to hurt this kid.. … Well they had it, Kamla. God would not mind even if He is blasphemed. But if one of his pet children like Arun is hurt, God will go out of the way to make life hell for the offender.

Kamla was very happy. But then she had another concern.

“Well, Kumar, the only thing that still worries me is his relationship with his father. As far as I know he is the only person he hates with all his heart apart from the Manager of his branch.”

“That’s his cross, Kamla. And not Vidya. He has borne that cross for long and a time has come for him to put that down. Don’t worry about that. It will be very difficult for him to continue that hatred with this kind of love enveloping his whole being.

“His life is now in the process of change. And the greatest blessing in his life at this time is you, Kamla.


"Nobody else in the world would be fit enough, would be loving enough, soft enough to play the role you are playing in his life right now.”

 

Part 5!​

Kamla was looking at Kumar with a sense of awe and surprise. Kumar smiled and took hold of her hand.

“Do you remember the story of 7 cows I told you when I proposed to you?”

“Do you think I can forget that for my life, dear?”

“I know I am not very strong in math, dear. But I never thought I would be so much off the mark.”

“What are you saying, Kumar?”

“Just this, my dearest that you are worth not 7 cows, but 7 million and more. I got you for a song. It was a steal, dear. I cheated you on that deal.”

Kamla flew into his arms.

 

Part 6!​

Kamla had promised Arun that they could have a meeting the very next week. But all of a sudden Dr.Rao had fallen ill and Kamla had to give moral support to his patients, though they had retained another neuro-physician to attend on them.

Little did Kamla know at that time that Dr.Rao’s sudden illness was going to have a life-threatening impact on her a little later.

With Dr. Rao in bed, Kamla was not psychologically free most of the time. She kept on postponing the meeting with Arun for another three weeks.

 

Part 7!​

​

On a rainy Saturday four weeks later Dr.Kamla got a call from Arun.

Why should Arun call her now? Kamla had a nagging feeling of guilt. If Arun’s depression had gone worse now, it would be only because of her not meeting him for a long time.

“Good morning, Doctor. Absolutely sorry for the intrusion. I am ashamed that I could not keep up my word, Doctor. I promised you that I won’t call you myself and now I have gone back on my word.”

“Its okay, Arun.”

“Now permit me to use the same Priya-logic you used to wrench the hotel bill from me on that day.

“Let’s say, your daughter is living here in this town. And she calls you to her house. Nothing special. Just to talk to you. Just to spend some time with you. You’d go right away. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Kamla knew where he was coming to.
“
And would you differentiate between a son and a daughter?”

Kamla was smiling.

“Talk straight, Arun. You want to meet me today? Most welcome. You want to come here? I’ll have some special dinner made for you. What’s the time?”

“Oh, Doctor, I am not inviting myself to your place. I am inviting you to my place. Time, sevennish. No dinner. But light snacks. Don’t worry. I am not preparing them. It’s made by the best hands in the industry.”

Kamla was surprised. Why should Arun invite her to his place? Was he in trouble? Then she remembered Kumar’s words about Arun. She felt relieved and accepted Arun’s invitation. She asked about directions and landmarks and promised to be there by seven in the evening.

 

Part 8!​

As Kamla stepped out of the elevator in that old apartment complex in the heart of <st1lace>West Mambalam</st1lace> she saw the flat L3 right before her. She pressed the bell and was surprised to see a fiftyish man opening the door. Kamla was shocked. He should be Arun’s father.

She had almost zeroed in on Arun’s father as the single greatest contributor of his depression. She wanted to meet him eventually, but not now. Did Arun want to show to her what kind of trouble he was having with his father?

Or was there a showdown between the father and the son and Arun wanted her to interfere? Either way Arun should have told her. It was not fair to just rope her in the father-son tangle without warning.

Kamla was worried about the probable cold reception she would receive from Arun’s father. But she was pleasantly surprised when he smiled broadly, folded his hands in her direction and turned inside to shout at Arun.

“Arun Sir, the Chief Guest has come.”

Arun came out to greet her. Arun was dressed in a maroon colour kurtha set. He was dashing.

“Most Welcome, Doctor.”

“Doc, this is Mr. Marimuthu, my editor, my reviewer and my mentor. He works for my publisher. He is the one who decides whether my story is worth publishing or not. He is a good, honest man and my dear friend.”

“And Marimuthu you know this is…”

“I know Arun Sir. This is the good lady to whom you dedicated your finest work. Welcome Madam.”

Marimuthu had a soft face and softer words. He was wearing a simple white dhoti and a white khadhi shirt. Kamla could see nothing but love pouring out of his eyes, which were magnified by the thick convex lens he was wearing in the form of spectacles.

‘Why should Arun invite Marimuthu for this personal discussion?’

Arun read the question in her eyes and answered it straightaway.

“We are having a book release function, Doctor. We are officially releasing my seventh book, “Unrequited Love.””

Kamla looked around. Perhaps she looked for an elite crowd of authors, readers and the intellectual types who throng a book release function. There were none.
Arun read her mind once again.


“Are you looking for a crowd, Doctor? Of fans, authors, publishers…..My publisher has been insisting to hold a grand book-release function. But I had never wanted that.

“This would go down into the Guinness Book of World Records as the book release function with the least attendance – just two apart from the author?”

Kamla smiled.

“But I am happy Doctor that this function is attended by all the people in the world who love me. I mean you and Marimuthu.”

Arun of course said it with a sense of self-deprecating humour. But the heaviness in his words hit her on her face.

 

Part 9!​

​

“Please come in Doctor. Marimuthu, come. It’s getting late.”

They adjourned to Arun’s bedroom. The bed had been removed and there was a table and chair in the centre of the room. A white embroidered table cloth adorned the table. There was a flower vase full of cut roses. A few copies of the new book were on the table.

The apartment had scanty furniture. But whatever was there had been tastefully chosen and had been put to best use. There were quite a lot of books in that room. The room was spotlessly clean.

Arun gave a gift-wrapped parcel to Marimuthu.

“Go ahead, Marimuthu.”

“I follow this custom every time my books are out. I make Marimuthu release the book. This time the welcome addition is that you are going to receive the first copy. Come Doctor.. come here..”

As Marimuthu got ready to open the wrapping Arun got his digital camera and was aiming at them.

Kamla received the first copy of the book from a beaming Marimuthu. Then Marimuthu took a picture of Kamla and Arun with the book.

Kamla smelt the book and opened it. As luck would have it opened on the dedication page. The words were printed in bright blue colour in Comic Sans MS font, in italics size 12.

“To the woman but for whose love this book would not have been possible.

To the woman whose father I want to be in my next birth to repay a millionth of what she’s doing to me now.

To Dr.Kamla Kumar.”

It was one thing to read those words scribbled on a piece of waste paper at her house.

And to see those words so beautifully printed on the centre of a page of a new book was a different experience. Kamla turned the other side to hide her tears from the two men in that room.

Marimuthu and Kamla shook hands with Arun and wished him best of luck. Kamla insisted that Arun should autograph her copy on the dedication page. Arun quipped while signing,


“Not just this copy but every copy of this book is pre-autographed to you, Doctor.”

In all that happiness and fulfillment Kamla could not help imagine “If only Vidya were present here now…..”

“Give me a few minutes, Doc. I’ll be back right away.”

 

Part 10!​

Kamla was left alone with Marimuthu. Kamla now had a strange feeling. Agreed that Arun is good, soft, and full of love and wisdom. But she had never talked to anybody about him.

Whatever information she had about Arun came only from him. As a psychiatrist she knew very well that the most unreliable source of information concerning any person is his own self.

Though she knew intuitively that Arun was as good and as loving as it appeared from his words, she wanted to test her intuition.

And here right by her side was one person who knew Arun even better than her. She did not beat around the bush.

“Marimuthu, what do you think of Arun Kumar as a writer… and as a person?”

Marimuthu smiled broadly revealing his yellowish teeth. He talked slowly but with a sense of extraordinary firmness.

“It’s rare to find a writer like Arun Sir. And rarer still to find a person like him. I have been proof-reading and editing for thirty years now. I know a dozen Saahithya Academy Awardees; a dozen very popular writers whose books sell in millions.

“One thing that has always struck me is the marked difference between what they write and what they are. But Arun sir is what he writes. I have never noticed a tinge of hypocrisy in him.

“To my knowledge he is the only living writer who is qualified to use the name of the great poet Bharathi as part of his pen name.

“When their first few books are successful, those popular writers tend to think that they are born geniuses and we publishers are their servants.

“The moment they become popular they fire their publishers, appoint their own agents, start their own publishing houses and do crazy things.

Arun sir is different. We at KT Publications brought out his first book. It was a roaring success. Soon after its publication a leading publishing company, which also owns a couple of TV channels approached Arun Sir for a book.

“They offered an obscene amount as sign-up advance. You know what Arun Sir told them?

“When I was not known to the world, it was KT which took me in and placed its bets on me. Today I am popular only because of them. You are approaching me because of my popularity which KT gifted me. No sir, I can never betray them, even if you were to give millions.”

Any other writer would have at least boastfully told this incident to his publisher as a bargaining handle. But till this date Arun Sir has not told us about it. I came to know of it only from my contacts in that company.

“Madam, you can find a thousand writers having Arun Sir’s skills. But it is impossible to find one human being having a heart like his.”

Kamla was speechless.

“And if such a person has written that kind of dedication to you, Madam, you should be a really great person. I begged Arun Sir that I should see you once in my life time. That has happened today. Even if I were to die right now, I’d be the happiest person in the world.”

The room was filled with pregnant silence which lasted till Arun returned with two large paper bags.