Kuch Luv Jaisa

It was 10.00 am of a November Sunday. Generally, by the time October heat makes its way for the winter session in the city of Mumbai, it is already mid-December. But this year, the winters were arriving early. So the Sunday morning was a bit cool. And the 10 am alarm woke up Samrat from his sleep.

Sundays are meant to be lying on the bed till late or a football match in the later evening. But today, Samrat has no time for either of these things. He has to reach Shivaji Mandir Theater of Dadar by 11 as he has to attend Pooja’s first ever classical dancing event. It was already late. Few more minutes lying on the bed will end him up really late for the event. And he knew the consequences. The thought of those innumerable attempts to apologize and convince Pooja to shed the anger and the silence which will follow later made Samrat uneasy and really get off his bed.

And as expected, Samrat was late for the event. He saw Rajashri and Kunal sitting on the front row. There was a seat vacant beside Kunal. He went and occupied that seat. Rajashri gave him a hopeless look. Samrat got the mood of his friends. However, Pooja’s last song for the day was still remaining. Samrat’s eyes were trying to find her on the stage. ‘She will come next for her last dance. Where were you, dude?’ asked Kunal. ‘A bit of traffic, yaar. And I got up late’, was Samrat’s nervous answer.

‘Hey, here she comes.’ Kunal said while everyone gave a huge round of applause as she arrived on the stage. This was her last attempt on the stage for this event. She was looking beautiful in a red cherry colored saree with a pearl necklace and hair beautifully tied up on her back. Pooja was looking radiant. As soon as she saw Samrat sitting in the front row with her rest of the group of friends, a pleasant smile came on her face. She started with her performance. Some girls behind her were equally beautiful in their attire and were the chorus for Pooja.

Samrat winked at her whenever she used to give him a glance. But he was spellbound as always by her dancing moves. Pooja was a trained classical kathak dancer since her childhood and today she was enjoying her first achievement as a dancer. What started as a hobby has now taken up the form of a beautiful profession. Samrat had always encouraged her to be a dancer. But, even today, just like many other teenagers of their time, all of them ended up in the field of engineering. On top of it, Samrat and Pooja were studying together since their school days. After their standard twelfth studies at National College of Bandra in Computer Science, they went ahead with an engineering course in Information Technology at Quintessence Insitute of Technology (QIT). And today they were enjoying their seventh semester of four year engineering course.

Pooja's dance was very eye pleasing. Her moves were close to perfection. She was herself enjoying her performance. And that was the reason why people were enjoying it too. Samrat glanced at Rajashri and Kunal. Both were engrossed in the performance. Samrat really didn’t know much about classical dance. Rather, it never interested him. But when it comes to Pooja, he has to compromise.

He looked behind. The hall was fully packed with people. The guests included Pooja’s family and friends, professors and other staff from QIT and many other relatives of Pooja. There were people from her locality, her neighborhood, her dad’s friends, her mom’s cousins, her friends’ friends. People related to other dancers of the event had also arrived in huge numbers. There were some big names from the entertainment industry as well. Everyone who knew Pooja had come to witness her first ever public performance. Classical dancing was always taken in high regards by almost everyone who knew music. And the people who didn’t know even the ABCD of dancing were nodding with pleasure along with the classical song playing in the background. They were exhibiting their engrossed state of mind.

Samrat’s eyes, however, were searching for one face amongst the crowd. He was trying hard to search that familiar face. But in vain. An elderly lady sitting just behind him stared at him in disgust. It was meant for him to concentrate on the performance and not to disturb others. Samrat, then, stopped looking behind. He tried to focus on Pooja’s performance but somehow myriad thoughts tried to capture him.

‘Where is Smruti ma’am?’ He asked Kunal.

‘Sam, fuck you. Not now at least. I don’t think she has come.’

‘Why? She was invited. Why would she miss it?’

‘I don’t know. And for God’s sake, focus on Pooja.’

Kunal’s words fell on deaf ears. Samrat started wondering. Where was she? What would have happened? She would never miss this occasion. Samrat was just physically present in the hall but his mind was wandering somewhere else. Pooja's beautiful performance could do nothing to take him off his thoughts.