Talespun | An account of the precious 120 minutes in the lives of three people - two men and a woman, in love. A triangular love story by Bhargavi Chandrasekharan.
It was a warm Sunday morning. Nobody in the temple would have known the reason why I am circumnavigating the premises like a maniac on mission. I had composed my own prayer, invoking the names of God of all the religions. I paused for a minute, wondering if NaMo would like to use this for his next Sadbhavana mission. I continued my universal prayer, bribing each God, to persuade my father. Alternatively, he/she can also make my Prithvi persuasive. Or, a bit of both so that both can understand each other’s perspective of me, which I know would be similar. I tried to explain the dire consequences of the failure of this negotiation - I will have to choose between one of the two men. ‘What are Gods for, but to encourage love, isn’t it?’ I reasoned. I clarified that I was not talking about parental love here. Of course, God knows, a lot. Caste, no caste, he won’t mind. We are all human beings, he created us so. I completed my 200th circle. Someone was ringing the giant bronze bell ferociously, I could see that. But all I could hear is my own heart strumming like an angry Sitar.
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The roads looked empty, except for a couple of morning bikers. Poorani’s instructions were very clear – “He is my father, as old as yours. “ It meant, “even if he were to call you names, keep smiling and talk politely, please.” I wore a white shirt and dark grey trousers. I remember her detailing. She warned “don’t wear black, wear blue, no. Blue is Saturn’s colour. Just go with white. Formal grey trousers to go with it? Yeah?” I nodded, unwittingly. I don’t remember being half as nervous as I am today. The image of her pious looking father floating in my mind kindled a mild headache. My own entropic mind intensified the ache. I switched it all with her smiling face. I wished I could develop some love for some conventional God at that instant. No. Faith was not to be forced, but felt, I knew. If there were one point to convince her father, I would gladly take it. Convince, why convince? I am in love with Poori. Anything, except self respect, for her. I will somehow put this to him. I checked the speedometer casually. I was driving at 150 km/hr.
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Nathan went about his morning prayers as usual. If he was perturbed by Poorani’s words, he didn’t show it. He trusted the almighty, who would not let her fall in, er, love. He knew it was the influence of west that has thrown this huge predicament in front of him. Love, he thought, was a mockery at pristine marital relationships. He offered his very soul to the deities in front of him, along with a bunch of fresh flowers. How would he offer the most precious flower in his garden, his daughter to this man-from-God knows-what-caste-family-background? How could he even think of going against the scriptures and the countless number of teachings of his elders? Thankfully, Poorani was not home. He could advise this man and politely send him away. Or, can he? He heard the screeching noise of a bike, which resembled a bull, to his eyes. “YAMAHA” read the bike. Of course, he thought as he buttoned up his sky blue shirt.
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“Good morning…Sir” Prithvi greeted, with a weak smile, adjusting his wind blown hair.
“Namaskaram, Prithvi” roared the confident Nathan, noting that the “Sir” was an afterthought from the boy and walked him to his home.
“I want to marry Poorani,” Prithvi started counting the number of deities on the wall and in their glass cupboard, only to give up soon.
“Who proposed love first, between the two of you?” Nathan deliberately ignored the question.
“Poorani, I was overwhelmed” Prithvi answered truthfully.
“Oh. So you didn’t even consider her actually?”
“I have always loved her, even before she spoke to me. In fact, the first time I saw her, you were with her. I knew we were meant for each other. But, you, sir, I can see that we are polar opposites. I didn’t want to make her choose between one of us. As invaluable as Poorani is to me, I won’t marry her without your consent.”
“Yes, you can.” Nathan said with a concluding tone.
“Did you mean we can marry?” Prithvi asked in disbelief.
“I heard that you don’t believe in Gods, now you don’t believe even human beings?” Nathan asked with a straight smile.
“No, no, sir. I thought I had to talk a lot and argue much. Poorani said I have to try and convince you for at least 2 hours.”
“She asked me to entertain you for at least 2 hours too.”
“Guess she knew that was our cut off point.”
“And she knew that my favourite was white colour. Is yours blue by any chance?”
“Well, yes.” Prithvi broke into a grin.
“You think we have a camera attached around?”
“No, but I was asked to record our conversation.”
“What is this, sting operation?”
“Dunno.” Prithvi laughed, “but, how “yes?””
“Did you do everything my daughter asked you to do before coming here?”
“As long as it is reasonable, yes.”
“That’s trust, bordering on faith.”
“Welcome home, Prithvi,” Nathan remarked, thanking his God silently.
“I would like to thank you for the remaining half an hour and more, sir,” Prithvi smiled genuinely as the door bell rang.
The men looked at each other, in anticipation, in satisfaction, in peace, counting the stars in each other’s eyes.