A Girl Named Sreeja

(Wrote in 2002)

“To the notice of travellers, train number three eight three from Trivandrum to Ernakulam via Kottayam will be leaving platform number three shortly”

“Yathrikom Dyan Kigiye …”

“What you don’t have change for fifty rupees. My train is leaving shortly. Check your pockets”

“This is such a big problem. People like you create all kinds of troubles for auto drivers like us. People like you don’t allow auto drivers to live peacefully. Take the balance for the fifty. To create difficulty …” the driver gave back the change with much disdain

Without waiting to hear his words Kamal took his bag and rushed to platform. This was the last day of his season ticket – his last ride – his farewell ride to this city and his faces.
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“Roll number twenty-eight, how does amplifier work” Like a thunderbolt the question flashed in front of Kamal’s pen

“I am asking to you only. How does the amplifier work?”

“Sir I don’t know”

“What, you don’t know. Today the whole class was about it. After hearing the whole Ramayana, you are asking who Sita is. Are you in this world? You were scribbling so much in your book. Look it up and answer”

Kamal looked down at his notebook. He looked at the beautiful face he had drawn and then gave a sigh

“I haven’t written anything”, he replied.

“You must have written something. Read it out” the voice said showing displeasure and anger

“Sir I haven’t written anything”

“What you haven’t written anything. Bring me the book. I had seen you writing something”

Kamal stood there unable to decide. Suddenly he threw the book out of the window through the bars

Whatever happened then was better unsaid. First his Sir, then the principal, then his suspension for a day – everything came and went as a flash. Luckily his parents were not called, otherwise poor mother …

He had done everything for her – only for her. This was happening for the first time. No teacher had ever complained him. But today …

“Drawing faces are your weakness, then why don’t you draw mine” Reena told Kamal

“My ink is not for drawing everyone’s face. There is something known as features. Not all faces have them. Only if I see them can I draw” he replied naughtily

“I am upset with you. You needn’t talk to me” Reena told as if she was upset

“Then don’t speak”

“So, you are planning to escape without drawing my face. Kamal I am serious draw my face”

“Ok, but you should treat me”

“Oh, a big artist” she replied sarcastically. ” I have come to know about the secret behind that book. We teased her a lot. She cried”

“Whom are you speaking about, say clearly?”

“Oh, I don’t know anything. She is not that type. Will you tell me the truth if I ask you?”

“No, I won’t” he replied naughtily

“Are you in love with her?”

“What are you asking Reena? I haven’t even talked to her. You and your sex are not to be believed”

“So, you don’t like her?”

“She is just my classmate, that’s it”

“But I know you have fallen in love. I am not seeing you for the first time”

“Go girl I am leaving”

During class hours without any ones notice Kamal has drawn how many pictures? How many times has he drawn the face of the passengers in front of him? But he never had that satisfaction. Something was always missing on those faces. Someone’s face had a lack of dreams, some had the lack of emotion and these were they looked engraved for someone else… for someone unknown. However beautifully if captured still there was something lacking in it. Something missing, Kamal felt tired of his life

“Kamal you came to know, Sreeja is coming new to class”

“Which Sreeja?”

“How many Sreeja do you know? She got transfer. She is good looking.”

“So, what”

Kamal was always like this. He speaks very little but his thoughts are fully occupied in drawing. But there is something special about him – maybe it is his art. He has drawn many a face but he had never fallen in love. Among girls he talks to Reena and one or two others. Not that he doesn’t want, it is that he can’t. Reena will come to him to talk. She is a good girl. She is already engaged. At her marriage I will draw her pictures and give it to her as a present he thought.

It was for Sreeja that he had thrown the book out of the window. He didn’t want any of his classmates to know. But they recovered the book and also each Sreeja in those pages

Sreeja comes from Kottarakkara. She is the youngest member in her family, most beloved. She is like Kamal – talks very little. Her eyes tell a story of dreams. The good and ills of life touch her very quickly. She is a poor little girl – a girl who loves to kiss goodbye to the stars at midnight, a girl who loves the flowers of autumn, a girl who likes to run in the rain, a girl who loves to sleep in the winter. She is a girl who waits eagerly for her lover keeping all her love pure.

“What if I go and tell sorry to Sreeja” he thought

Kamal is like this. He will never let himself hurt anyone. He is a person who has known pain … death of his father then his brother. Otherwise, why should he leave apportion of his money from paintings for the street children

Kamal what is your problem Today there is a nice movie. We will cut the class”

“You are talking to the wrong guy. He will be the last person to cut the class”

Everyone knows Kamal won’t cut his class. Not that he doesn’t want to. But how can he spend all his money which mother gives for movies. He has a younger brother and sister to take care of

“You go. Is Sreeja hurt?”

“We don’t know. If you want to know, you go and ask. She is very sensitive she may cry”

In the evening Kamal stood in front of the way where Sreeja goes to hostel. “He should say sorry and if possible, befriend her” Kamal thought. He had cut the last hour. He wanted to wait before she goes. It was almost one hour since. He saw Sreeja walking with her friends. There were many friends. Some of them were his classmates.

“Sreeja, I want to tell you something. Can you come with me?”

“If it is something you can tell here you say” she replied

“Sreeja we are leaving” her friends responded

“You all wait I am coming”

“Sreeja I am very sorry. I did a wrong thing. Please forgive me. We can become friends”

“You need not tell me anything. Aren’t you ashamed to draw the pictures of other girls? I hate you. You should not come to me with this subject again” She started to sob

“You can tell anything you want. You can punish me in whatever way. What I did was wrong. I am sorry I am leaving. I won’t bother you again.”

Kamal walked away – lazily, tired of this life. There were only losses in his balance sheet. He felt a big hole in him. He wanted to cry his heart out. She was the first girl he had loved, the last one he thought. What if he drank some toddy? For the first time in his life, he ate Kappa, fish and arrack
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“Da Kamal you have phone” his friends waked him from his sleep. “What was the time”, Kamal thought? Sun had already disappeared. Full moon was on the horizon. “It must be from home”, Kamal thought

“Kamal today I behaved very rudely. I am sorry I should not have behaved that way. My friends criticized me for what I had done. I felt much pain that’s why I talked like that. I am sorry for the way I have talked”

“Sreeja I should not have drawn your picture, that too without your permission. Can’t we forget everything? Can’t we be friends, just friends?”

“Yes friends, only good friends”

“I will never hurt Sreeja” he promised himself. “I will never use her innocent friendship for his secret desire to love her. They will be good friends, always” He loved her that much
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Spring is the season of love. That was a Monday – that was the day they discovered a secret – that they were very much in love. Was it the climate or friend’s wedding that led to the truth they never know?

“You came to know it is Ranjini’s marriage. We girls are all going. You guys are coming”

“Everyone is getting married. Sreeja when is your marriage?”

“That, well that is after Kamal gets a good job and comes to my house and ask my hand”

“You like me so much”

“Very much Lots and lots”

“Even I am deeply in love with you”

“That means”

“That means we are in love. Do you recollect when we fell in love. Not today I am sure”

“Someday Kamal I can’t recollect”

“I only know one thing. Without anyone’s notice without even our knowledge it had slowly approached us”

“I am afraid, Kamal”

“Even I am afraid, Sreeja. If you fall in love with me you will have to be sad. I have told you the problems of my house”

“How can you ever tell something like that to me. Will you ever leave me?”

“I can never leave you. Never”
Months passed into years. They celebrated many an autumn together. But …

“Kamal, I have got a proposal for marriage. What should I do?”

“Sreeja your father will never allow marriage between us. Can you come with me?”

“Kamal, I love my dad and mom. I have two younger sisters. But I cannot think of marrying anyone else”

“What should I do Sreeja? I hope I was rich. Otherwise, I hope you were born in some hut”

Sreeja’s eyes started flooding. She started sobbing. Kamal took her to his chest and prayed God never to separate them
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Exams were over- the last day of college. Everyone was saying goodbye to everyone – the day when many a love birds will be separated. Kamal and Sreeja stood in a corner and shared the sorrow of separation

“Kamal I will wait for you. You have got a job. You should work hard. You should clear all debts and come along with your family to my dad and ask my hand for marriage.”

“Sreeja you should not wait for me. You will get a good boy… someone who is rich and handsome”

“But I want you and only you”

“You will get many guys like me. People who will and can love you more than me”

“I will wait for you believing you will come one day”

“Sreeja I am giving this to you. This was the picture I drew when I first saw you. Then memories of the suspension, of all the good times we had together. You should keep this safe just as a token for memory”

“Sreeja, yes, it is the old notebook. I got it back from my friends and I kept it safe”

“If you love me so much, can’t you take me? I will wait for you”

“No Sreeja, I don’t believe myself. For me life is a game there can be losses in it. I love you very much. Not just in this life but in a thousand more lives to come. Don’t wait for me. You should fly like a butterfly. You should enjoy life. Without these I will hate you”

Kamal kept the book beside the window. Leaving her, her words, her sobbing he walked back the stairs down. He couldn’t look back at her – he felt his whole body weak
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Train came to a halt suddenly. Kamal woke up from his dreams. Goodbye to the city of Trivandrum and the faces it has given and also to the girl called Sreeja – a mixture of happy and sad memories

“I will wait” the words that were heard between her sobs as he walked down the stairs …

Kamal had given much thought and decided about her. She was a girl who was born and brought up in all luxury. Why should she sacrifice her life waiting for him? When will he pay all his debts and start life anew? When can a marriage occur with the consent of her parents? What if life enslaved him?

He had told her all these thoughts, but the words she told when he walked down the stairs

Life was a high hurdle. Will she be there once he clears them? “To think she would be there itself was wrong” he told himself. Let gods give her all happiness. And then this everlasting love is a story that artists and movies have made out. He kept all his desires and entered the train

Far away, miles away in man’s nature to forget with the wheels of time, in a period where relations mean words will the girl named Sreeja wait with a confidence which her lover itself has never given?