KOFFEE WITH KIRAN
CHAPER - 2
Emon closed the door with a myriad of thoughts engulfing his mind. He leaned back against it for a long time before walking towards the desk to continue with his unfinished manuscript. He added a little more content but realized that there were still a lot of loose ends that needed to be tied up. Well, that will have to wait till I meet Kiran, he thought. He read, edited and re-read the new content till he found it seamlessly merging with the rest of the story. After all, he was adding new facts to something that was written almost a year ago.
Kiran’s phone call a couple of hours back changed his mood; he carried an expression of disbelief all through the morning. He did not tell Anoushka but even he was shocked at her unexpected return. The thought of remaining ignorant about her whereabouts and her success infuriated him.
He pushed back the chair and closed his eyes. He recalled the conversation he had with her earlier in the morning. He remembered her first words very clearly; and her voice, how could he forget that husky metallic voice.
“Hello, is that Emon?” the voice asked, from the other side of the wireless network. The voice although familiar was replete with anxiety. It was almost on the edge of panic.
“Yes,” he said, excited, “Who is this?”
“Kiran. I hope you haven’t forgotten me.”
“Kiran, for God’s sake, where have you been? It’s almost a year!” he answered, literally shouting into his cell phone.
“I am so happy to have found you at last. I am sorry for my abrupt disappearance. Could you give me your new address? I want to send you the premiere tickets of my movie.”
“What? Your movie. Great … write down the address.”
“Your place is quite close to mine.”
“Is it?”
“Could you come a little early tonight? I want to talk to you about so many things.”
“Yes, of course. I am speechless. There were rumors about your car accident.”
She interrupted him. There was urgency in her voice. “I will tell you everything tonight. My driver will bring the tickets. He should be there in ten minutes.”
“But why didn’t you call me for so many months.”
“Emon, I am in a hurry. I have to reach the studios. See you tonight.”
The phone went dead even before he could manage to say ‘Bye’.
Her call stirred old memories. A part of his life he would rather not think about. The shrill sound of telephone ring cut through his thoughts. He opened his eyes, straightened the chair. The table violently when he grabbed the phone in excitement.
“Hello.”
“Hi,”
It was Anoushka.
“You are still at home? Time you left for the airport.”
“I was about to. So hang up and let me dress.”
“Okay. But please drive slowly.”
“I will.”
“See you in the evening,” she said, ending the call.
The languorous late morning promised an exciting day ahead. He got up reluctantly, stretched his arms and went inside the bedroom. He removed a fresh pair of jeans and kurta from the armoire, lined up against the longest wall of the room. He changed and dropped the worn ones in the washing machine. On his way back to the living room, he saw the premiere tickets lying on the sideboard, delivered by Kiran’s driver early in the morning after her call.
Out of curiosity, he opened the booklet that was attached to it. A strange sense of déjà vu hit him. There were several ‘still’ pictures of Kiran with the lead actor. The one which caught his attention was her close up; he saw the same hard and piercing grey green eyes, which were the hallmark of her persona. They were the same eyes he had seen two years back. But today, she looked different.
The book “Koffee with Kiran”, which he'd put off for months for want of information, was their story; about their struggle, humiliation and sacrifice. Two years back they were all failures, but today he had jumped the fence, recognized as one of the most successful young writers of modern India. He always thought of Kiran during her absence. Now that she had become an actress, Emon felt happy for her, because today even she had jumped the fence.
Long ago, during his struggling days Emon had categorized people as either successful or failures. He created an imaginary fence between the two. He was elated today, as all four of them were on the ‘ Successful ’ side of the barrier.
He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag of it, smiling at the sudden turn of events. Setting the tickets back on the sideboard, he picked up the keys to the apartment and pinched his pocket; to confirm he had the car keys too. He had one last look around before shutting the door behind him.
Outside the apartment, his eyes focused on the nameplate which read, “Emon & Anoushka”. Just above it hung a wooden plate which had their finger and palm prints embossed on clay tablet, suggested by their family Pandit. He told them it was auspicious as it would bring peace and love into their home.
Crushing his half finished cigarette in the sand box placed on a tall metal stand along the passage, he took the elevator down to the parking floor.
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