Walking down the stairs, Mr. Anand, a strange voice came exactly behind me. The sound was soft and rich. Mr. Anand, I am here just behind you, please turn, a girl said, who was running behind me. She used the make up to accentuate her slim body.
I turned in the heroic way and astonished to find her. She was pretty beautiful enough to catch the sight of the crowds. She had the long bony fingers and a blade of eyes.
I want to talk to you sir, she said to me in calm searching voice. She wore a hard rectangular batch of NORTH NEWS around her neck. She really had the bland style of speaking.
Is there anything talk about me? I said in rich confident voice. I was adroit at avoiding situations.
Yeah, absolutely you are the great revolutionary guy that I have seen in my life, she said to me.
So, what do you want from me, Ms. Pooja kumari, I said to her in smart confident voice. She wore the black tight fitted dress with full sleeves enough to cover her hands properly. The batch was continuously moving like the pendulum with the strong cool wind. She was looking adorable and affirm as well. She was agile, may be faster than kangaroo.
So, how do you know my name? she said to me in surprising way.
Just by seeing your batch, I said in simple voice.
Oh, you are too smart, even more than my thinking Mr. Anand, she said to me in seducing language. She was the allure of the knowledge.
So, what can I do for you? I said again to her in normal voice.
Actually, I am the editor of NORTH NEWS of Mussoorie. I have listened lot of news about your new book “Revolutionary Love”. I am too keen to know about the success story of your book and even also know about you. I want to publish an article regarding your success in our newspaper.
I want to take your interview hardly for about two hours in order to get familiar with you, she said to me continuously in non-stop voice and begging for the interview with me. She was dominating on me. When someone tries to dominate on you, be silent, calm and take a deep breathe and moves away, but not in case of girls. I put my knees in front of the almighty girl. She was doing altercation and I accept it quietly.
Okay come with me, I said to her in sympathetic low voice.
There was heavy raining outside, so we opened an umbrella while walking down the slippery black wet stairs. I was moving ahead slowly and slowly and she was moving swiftly even with the heels for about 5 inches, yes she was a reporter and her attributes were showing everything in front of me. Some giant drops of rain were killing me from back also.
I was going to Dehradun by my personal car. Will you join me? And you can take my interview also till we reach the Dehradun. It would take hardly two and half hour to reach there. You can take my interview in our way to reach there.
Ms. Pooja kumari, the editor of NORTH NEWS was too excited to take my interview, so she didn’t denied me.
The driver came towards us in the black shiny luxurious car. He stopped the car just in the front of the termination point of the stairs of the auditorium. He opened the lavish gate of the car. I was trying to close the umbrella but it was stuck at one point only. Ms. Pooja snatched it from me and closed it immediately. I was thinking whether she is powerful or I am weak. Yes, these type of poor thoughts were teasing me in this bad weather. She closed the umbrella and handover it to the driver.
The driver closed the door abruptly and took his seat immediately. He was driving the car on the dangerous hilly Mussoorie roads. The weather was translucent enough to see cars on the slippery black road. The voice of the rain and accelerating speed were tearing our ears only and except this everything else was silent. I was counting the poles on the roads, instead of talking with her. How can a boy busy in his own thoughts, even a beautiful girl sit beside him? Yes, I have this worst quality to ignore girls, even for a while.
Would you like a cup of hot chocolate coffee? She said to me in caring way.
I was still wandering in my own dreams and looking outside the car through toughened glass on which the rain drops were fighting each other for survival. The rain drops were creating a rhythm on the toughened condensed glass.
Yeah sure, I said to her in low sad voice good enough to hide my tears.
Do you like chocolate coffee? She said to me with her sparkling hope eyes.
No, I don’t like chocolate coffee, instead I like the hot chocolate coffee, and I burst into the laughter to hide my pain and tears. I was really good at hiding my pain.
Oh exactly, she was smiling gently. May be she was thinking about my madness because I was behaving too strangely.
You have written a wonderful story titled “Revolutionary Love” and have broked all the records. So, becoming author was your dream, passion or profession? She asked me.
No, it was not my dream nor my passion instead it was madness for me to become successful, I said to her in confident voice.
I didn’t understand Mr. Anand. In which sense madness? Can you please elaborate, she said to me with her petal shining lips. We were talking too formally. She was trying to talk to me in the informal way, but I was still stuck at my traditional formal way and yes, there was a long story behind my formal attitude.
While taking the sip of the hot chocolate coffee I answered,
Madness is nothing, but just to follow your heart, listen to your heart, speak to your heart. Your mind and heart have different opinions & dreams and once you understand your heart, you convert your passion into madness, I said to her in a psychological manner and took the deep breathe.
She was totally astonished with my answer, even she had never listened this type of answer from an author. It was really breathe taking moment for her. She took the large sip of hot chocolate coffee and took the deep breathe. The condensed fog was coming from our mouth.
Wonderful sir, I really have the nice day with you. So, can you please tell me about your family members, she said.
They were, I am orphan now. I had lost my parents sometimes ago, I said to her in sad voice. I was not in the mood of giving any interview, but her attention was alluring me to do so.
Oh sorry, my intention was not to hurt you, she said to me in the apologizing voice. Yes, every boy has this dialogue ready for girls, when they hurt girls and I was also among them.
So, why did you choose the title of this book Revolutionary love? Is there any special reason, she said and switched the topic too quickly. In spite of being reporter, her girl attributes was dominating on her rather than anything.
Yeah absolutely it has. Everyone does love. They smell the love from closeness. They feel the love from the same soul, same heart, same voice but what will happen, if a lover doesn’t get his/her love, then it becomes a revolutionary love and my story is revolving around this orbit, I said to her in my revolting voice.
She could see the tears of revolution in my eyes. She was extremely excited to get the answers of the remaining questions because I was answering each and every question in psychological manner.
The rain was raining outside not with the small droplets but heavily. We were on our way in a beautiful black car doing bilateral conversation with each other with the hot chocolate coffee. I was looking outside my car in the deep hills and trying to hear the sound of silence with my psychological mind.
So, this love story revolving around your psychological answers, she answered in psychological manner like me and laughed so lightly. Her sarcasm level was high like other girls. Her deep black eyes were saying each and everything.
Oh absolutely, I said laughed little bit and took a careful sip of hot coffee. Sometimes, I was wandering in my own thoughts and trying to explain everything to my mind but heart was stopping me very well to dominate over my mind.
Who was your inspiration to write this story, she said. Is there anyone special, she said by cleaning the icy foam on her light lips with the pink handkerchief. She had the diary in her hands and noticing each and everything with her bonny hands.
There was no one, but still I had used my pain to write this story. I never thought of becoming a writer but the pain inside my heart lured me to write about my pain in each and every nerves of my heart. Otherwise my heart would get burst out leaving death for me and nothing else. So, I used the ink like blood to express my thoughts in the front of whole world. I only used my sadness to write this book. I said to her, while trying to control the flood of tears from my lonely eyes.
She had seen the pain in my eyes. We both were still quite in the car. May be the driver khan chacha was listening our psychological talks.
What happened Mr. Anand, she asked me while saw seeing me clearing the tears from my eyes. She was saying me Mr. Anand and this was paining more than anything else. I told her to say me Anand only.
Nothing Ms. Pooja, just tell, from where are you? Tell me about your family members, I questioned to her to change the atmosphere inside the car. All the windows were close, and it was creating suffocation in the car and dumping my mind as well. I opened the window swiftly to feel the fresh cold air.
Nothing much, I have a nuclear family with retired father, a housewife mom and a younger brother. Basically I am from ludhiyana, Punjab the state of five rivers. I am here just to attend and capture the celebrating moments of your book.
Oh that’s great, I said to her in low pitch sound.
So, have you love someone in your life? Do you have boyfriend, I asked her in simple peace voice which crashed the voice of the rain.
Yeah, I have a boyfriend, I love him too much. Even he is my life, she said to me in the delight voice.
Oh so now it’s too significant to read the story of my book, I said to her.
Yeah absolutely, can you please tell me about your story? I want to listen story from your mouth Mr. Anand. I will tell everyone that I have listened the story of revolutionary love from the mouth of Mr. Anand with the hot chocolate coffee in a car on the Mussoorie hills with the huge rain outside, she requested to me like a child stubborn for the toys.
Yeah absolutely, why not, we have enough time to cover this story very well. May be you will like it, understand it well, I said to her in the calm voice and finished the last sip of the hot chocolate coffee.