Stochastic Chronology IV

Led Zeppelin’s ‘Whole lotta love’ blasted from her car’s speakers as she took a turn at the signal. She thought she’d surprise at first, but couldn’t resist calling Krishna. It was one year since Krishna moved to her town. They had met at a common friend’s home a couple of times, but became close friends only recently.

Shruti pressed the speed dial button on her steering and instructed Siri to call Krishna. He picked up.

“Hi Krishna,” she said.

“Hey, hi!,” he replied.

“Wassup?” she said.

“Nothing much. Just finished my work and came out for a snack,” he said.

“Oh, I thought you were at home,” she said.

“No, I was, but I just came out…why do you ask? Are you coming over?” asked Krishna.

“Actually, yes. I thought I’ll surprise you – especially because you mentioned your roommate has gone to India,” she said and smiled.

“Sure, that’s great?” he said.

“Alright then, I’ll wait in the car,” she said.

“Actually, I forgot to lock the door, I mean, I couldn’t find the keys and I was very hungry, so I kind of left the door open. Just push it, go inside and make yourself comfortable, I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he said.

“If you had mentioned to me you were coming over, I wouldn’t have come here, we would’ve met directly,” he said.

“Hey no problem, I wanted to visit you anyway,” she said.

“Sure, just wait a few minutes. I’ll be right there,” he said.

“Alright,” she said and hung up.

Shruti stood in front of apartment 10305 and pushed the door which opened comfortably. She removed her jacket and made herself comfortable on the couch. Her perfume smelled great and the confidence showed on her face. She felt good as she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her Facebook feed. She was quickly bored and switched to WhatsApp where she opened Krishna’s chat. She opened his display picture and put her thumb on his face, and caressed it. She then returned to the chat window and began to read her past chats. She knew what occurred where as she strategically stopped scrolling and read– “You’re awesome”, “We should do this again”, “We are like best friends who never met until now” and so on. There were enough moments that made her smile. And she had not deleted even one message ever since they started chatting. It was a repository of memories she treasured and often sat back to reminisce.

She was twenty-seven and hadn’t experienced love before. And she felt this was her shot. Krishna was the reserved kind. He had never indicated anything clearly and always respected her. Never let his hand touch her even unintentionally. That’s what she liked about him. If a man can give a woman her space, uphold her dignity and love her at the same time, it’s a relationship jackpot. It’s the jackpot every woman wants to hit. Krishna was her chance at it. It was quiet. The only sounds that she heard were cries of confusion from inside her heart. She looked at her phone again, scrolled and tapped through different apps and put the phone down and looked at the door, waiting for him.

Just then, from inside the kitchen, someone walked out.

Shruti screamed.

“Hey, why’re you so scared?” asked the man.

Shruti was still confused. Her heart pounded.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she felt mystified this stranger.

“Hi, I’m Anand,” he said.

“Hi,” she said.

“Don’t be scared, relax!” said Anand.

“Krishna said there’s no one at home…so I got scared,” he said.

“Oh,” said Anand.

“You’re not his roommate, are you?” asked Shruti.

“Nope, that would be Mahesh. He’s in India,” said Anand.

“And you?” asked Shruti.

“I’m his ex-roommate. We were together in Dallas,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” said Shruti as she breathed easy as she knew Krishna had earlier lived in Dallas.

“But Krishna didn’t mention you you were at home at all, I mean, I just spoke to him a while ago. He didn’t even mention you were coming over this weekend,” she said.

“Didn’t he? He was busy working all week, he must have forgotten. And even otherwise, I’m not the kind that people remember and talk about,” said Anand and winked.

Shruti smiled. Something made her relax. She identified with what he said. Nobody talked about her too.

“I’m Shruti,” she said. He kept his distance and smiled.

“I know. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.

“In fact, you’re the only thing Krishna talks about these days,” he added.

Shruti swayed between smiling and blushing.

“Do you want anything? Water? Coke?” he asked.

“No, I’m good. Just had a late lunch,” she said.

“How’s your job hunt going?” he asked.

“He told you that as well?” she asked.

“Yes. Wish you good luck, let’s not talk about it if you’re not comfortable,” he said.

“No, it’s not that. Job hunt is going well. I interviewed twice last week. Hoping something works out,” she said.

“Cool. Good luck,” he said.

Shruti’s eyes wandered throughout the room as she felt mysteriously comfortable in his company until he saw her phone. She picked it up and dialed a number.

“I’ll call Krishna,” she said.

Krishna didn’t pick up. She put the phone back and said to him, “He’s not picking up. Could you try calling him?”

Anand looked at her and said, “I don’t have a phone.”

“What? It’s 2018 and you don’t have a phone?” she said.

“It’s 2018 and that’s why I don’t have a phone,” he said.

Shruti laughed.

“Really?” she said.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and went inside the kitchen.

In his absence, Shruti began to wonder about this friend that Krishna never mentioned to her even once in one year. She felt that she had unloaded her entire history on Krishna during conversations and felt a little betrayed when she thought that he didn’t speak a word about Anand ever and neither did he tell her about his visit. It began to prick – a little, but also scared her. She quickly took out her phone and opened Krishna’s chat. She searched for the word, “Anand”. Nothing turned up. So not even in chat.

What if Anand was an intruder? What if he just broke in since the door was open? And he was not willing to call Krishna…all this didn’t add up. He was still inside. Shruti brought herself under control and decided to exit – immediately. As she got up and was about to leave, Anand walked back into the room.

“Are you leaving?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think I’ll leave,” said Shruti.

“Here, see this,” said Anand and handed her a postcard size photograph of Krishna and him, taken at the Statue of Liberty.

“Oh, this is cool,” she said and took a deep, relaxing breath, but failed to conceal her anxiety. One thing was confirmed now – Anand wasn’t a stranger. There was a photograph. He couldn’t have photoshopped and printed it in two minutes. That was some respite. But then, she still felt uncomfortable.

“This was on our trip to New York, two years ago on Independence Day,” he said.

“Oh I remember Krishna mentioning it,” she said.

“Hmm, did he? Thank God, he said something about me, finally!” he said.

“Well, he said you were a group of five or six friends,” she said.

“That’s right. We were six,” said Anand.

“Why do you look so restless? Relax, would you?” he said.

“Sure,” she said and smiled.

“Couldn’t find my name in the chat?” he asked. Shruti was stunned. A chill ran down her spine and her gut began to churn in fear.

“What search?” she said, trying to maintain a poker face.

“Come on, you just searched for my name in your chats with Krishna, looking for any mention of my name, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes, I’m sorry,” she said.

Shruti wondered how he knew. She turned around and thought maybe she was too lost in the phone and he might have peeked into her phone? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time in history someone got lost in the phone, unaware of their surroundings. Shruti turned the phone and put it face-down and looked at Anand.

“In fact, I don’t mind even if you searched. Like I said, I’m not the kind of guy who’s a topic of discussion. People forget me as soon as I leave the room. It’s been like this since childhood,” he said.

Somewhere in a lonesome corner of her heart, Shruti felt compassion for him. These were her thoughts which he was speaking. That’s exactly what she’d been thinking about herself for a long time.

“To tell you the truth, people remember I exist when I show up or call them,” he said and a helpless smile surfaced on Anand’s face.

Shruti’s eyes moistened. “It’s gotten worse in this last one year,” said Anand and strolled around the room.

“Well, being interesting is a relative concept. Not everyone has to like us or find us awesome,” said Shruti and smiled.

“What I find interesting maybe boring to you and worse, what’s boring to me might be interesting to you. That’s very hard to process for many people, but it’s important that you recognize that possibility. That’s how you get comfortable with everyone,” said Shruti.

“True, now look at you. You listen to rock, but Krishna only listens to film music. He has a new favorite album every two months,” said Anand.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“The tattoo on your wrist,” said Anand.

Shruti smiled.

“The zoso tattoo,” she said.

“I love Led Zeppelin too,” said Anand.

“What other rock bands do you like?” asked Shruti.

“Pink Floyd, Metallica, Dream Theater, Deep Purple,” said Anand.

“Oh, so the whole big package,” she said.

“And Nirvana too,” he said.

“Well, Kurt Cobain, huh?” she said.

“Yup, all the legends,” he said.

“I like everything you named, and The Doors,” she said as she raised her legs and stretched it on the couch, and accidentally kicked the phone on the floor. The phone fell with its face up. There was still no call from Krishna. Shruti picked it up, put it on her thigh, turned it upside down and looked at Anand, craving for more conversation.

“But you don’t look like a rock fan,” she said.

“Neither do you,” he said.

“Did you just stereotype me – rock fan doesn’t mean I have to grow long hair, wear weird t-shirts and look crazy,” he added.

“That’s true. Appearance has nothing to do. I was just gauging your reaction,” she said.

“And what did you find,” he said.

“I mean, guys mostly…” she said.

Anand cut her off.

“I don’t like sentences that begin with ‘guys mostly’. That’s a hell lot of generalizing. The words ‘guys’ and ‘mostly’ don’t go together. Those weird memes, you know, they’re appealing only to idiots on Facebook,” said Anand.

“I think I might be tempted to agree with you...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to generalize,” she said.

“That’s alright. Let’s talk about food. Are you particular about food choices?” he asked.

“I like good food. That’s about it. Not a weekend restaurant-raider,” she said.

“That’s so cool. I wish I could control my love for food,” he said.

“What cuisines do you like?” she asked.

“I love Chinese. Not the Chinese Chinese. I like Indian Chinese. Spicy stuff,” he said.

“What about biryani?” she asked.

“I love it more than Chinese. But I don’t talk about it anymore. Well, Indians in the US have only two topics of discussion – visa status and biryani,” he said.

“I know, right!” she said and laughed.

“But that’s a hell lot of generalizing,’ she added and winked.

Anand widened his smile and winked.

Shruti was enjoying the conversation. All her discomfort had evaporated from the predicament she had found herself in. She was in fact, having a great time. Although her heart wanted to try calling Krishna again, she refrained. In fact, she slid the phone under her leg and folded her hands on her bosom and looked at Anand.

“What do you think of Mexican food?” asked Shruti.

“I don’t like anything that has cheese in it,” he said.

“Wow, finally, someone who agrees with me,” she said.

“I hope you don’t avoid cheese because it’ll make you fat,” he said.

“No. I avoid cheese on general principle – just don’t like the taste,” she said.

“Also, I don’t care if I put on a few extra pounds. It doesn’t matter to me,” said Shruti with a firmness in her voice.

“I agree. I’m against body-shaming, fat-shaming or any kind of shaming that makes one uncomfortable. I am against the basic idea of judging a person based on their physical features,” said Anand.

Shruti began to see herself in him.

“The only weight that one needs to be conscious about, is head-weight,” she said.

“I so agree,” he said.

In the last few minutes, there was a sea change in the way she looked at him. She felt relaxed. But one thing began to bother her. She never had these conversations with Krishna. He was never into these things. He spoke a lot, but they only treaded on the beaten path – just the regular operational stuff. And now she began to wonder if she knew anything about him at all.

“You seem to be a very straight-forward person,” said Anand.

“Yeah, I don’t hide much,” she said.

“Not that. Do you express yourself freely?” he asked.

“No, I don’t. I’m not the kind that writes f**k for fuck,” she said.

“Good, we think alike here too,” he said.

“One last thing – what kind of movies do you like?” he asked.

“I like violent gory movies where there’s a lot of blood. I love Quentin Tarantino. I’ve seen Pulp Fiction a few dozen times. And I still watch Kill Bill once a month,” she said without hesitation.

“Other than that, I enjoy great dramas, sci-fi and action flicks,” she said.

“Wow, so you’re not the romcom kind,” he said.

“Romance should be a part of life, not movies,” said Shruti and smiled.

Anand stood there, looking at her.

“What else?” he asked.

“You tell me. You live in Dallas, right? How’s Dallas? I’ve never been there,” she said.

“Dallas is heaven,” said Anand.

“Really?” she said.

“Yes, everything is big and broad. I love it. And nobody ever got tired of the sunshine,” he said.

“True. I fucking hate these winters here,” she said.

“You should find a job in Dallas,” he said.

“I wish! But I’m prepared to go anywhere,” she said as the aspiration in her eyes seemed evident. A mindful pause followed.

“Where in India are you from?” she asked.

“Hyderabad,” he said.

“How about you?” he asked.

“Hyderabad too,” she said.

“Who else is at home?” he asked.

“My parents and a brother. I miss them,” she said.

“Me too,” he said.

“Once I get a job, I’m going to bring them here. My father retires next month. They can stay here for a few months. I’m going to show them a lot of places,” she said.

“Sounds great,” he said.

“Did your parents ever visit you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“When?” she asked.

“Last year. When they came to collect my body,” he said.

A train ran into Shruti’s soul. Her existence was ripped to shreds. She lifted her head up as every nerve inside her quivered. Anand was gone. There was no one. There never was.

Before she could get a grip on reality, the door opened and Krishna walked in. Shruti rushed toward him and hugged him.

“Krishna!” she screamed.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he said as he dropped the bag he had in his hand and wrapped his arms around her. It was the first time he had hugged her.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said as her voice trembled.

“Wait a second. Shruti, come on. Get a grip on yourself. Take a deep breath. Drink some water. Relax,” said Krishna as he caressed her back.

“Anand…Krishna…Anand,” she said.

Krishna hugged her tighter. His mouth hovered around her ear.

“If you can calm down, I want to tell you something,” said Krishna.

Shruti’s eyes widened.

“Anand was my roommate since university days. We both got a job in the same company. Last year, he had a drink or two extra and drove. That was his last day. After he died, I moved here. He visits me every now and then. He was adamant that he wanted to meet you. I couldn’t say no. He didn’t want me to mention it to you either. So,” said Krishna and continued to hug her.

Shruti’s tears had begun to wet Krishna’s shoulder. She took a deep breath and wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

“When the time comes, he will go. He says he just can’t leave this world yet,” said Krishna.

Shruti opened her eyes wide and began to breathe heavily as she looked toward the kitchen. Quietly, Anand walked up to the kitchen entrance and leaned on the wall and waved.

Shruti, through her red eyes, heavy breath, moistened cheeks and ripped soul, managed to smile.

-Deepak Karamungikar.