Ishaan and Aditi: Part One

Beginnings: The Coffee

She entered the classroom, late and with her head down. She hated being late, that too on her first day. She on the front bench because that was the closest within her proximity.

She didn’t know why she was there, she felt almost mechanical. After school got over, she found herself nowhere. She realised she needed to search, find out more, explore, travel- so she chose a new place.

She looked around at her class- new fresh faces- some smiling, some making conversation with those sitting next to her, some staring at others making conversation, some already flirting, some like her looking around too- she was enjoying this already. The walls, they were yellow. Yellow, it reminded her of the Coldplay song. She made a mental note to listen to the new album once she got back. The walls, again. They were yellow, with the paint coming off as one went higher up towards the ceiling. The cobwebs had made a small civilization there on the ceiling corner. Cobwebs, so intricate and tantalizing at the same time! She always found cobwebs beautiful and mysterious- they looked like a work of art to her. She imagined the dusky yellow light falling on the cobwebs, a photograph being clicked, the focus on the web while the shadow, magnanimous, formed a blurry background- beauty! From the ceiling the fan descended down, attached to the centre with a long pole, it reminded her of the busy, murmuring rooms of the dilapidated coffee houses back home. The pretentious artists, the college going band mates, the old men- rattling away, discussing political systems that were bound to fail, policies that yielded no good and sometimes, even crime. There was nothing under the sun that was not spoken of within the four ancestral walls.  It was ‘the adda’.

The teacher’s voice broke her reverie. “Here, class! Come on start introducing yourselves, beginning from the back. Yes, you- start”.

“Hi my name is Maya. I live here but I’m a Maharashtrian”.

“My name is Maria, from Kerala”.

“Joseph, Konkani, brought up here”.

It went on and she began losing interest or even getting people’s names. Just then someone tapped her shoulder from the back.

“Could you please pick up the pencil? It’s right under your bench- there”, he pointed. She bent down and picked it up and gave it to him.

“Thanks”, he smiled.

She continued looking at what was it that he was using the pencil for. He was sketching. It was a woman with hair like Medusa except that they weren't snakes, just standing upwards. Her eyes had a mysterious 

Durga like appeal and she had a joint in between her lips.

“Weed goddess?” she smiled and asked.

“Sort of” he chuckled and went back to his work.

His tongue was sticking out of his mouth and he was so meticulously sketching it. Putting the pencil behind his ears rubbing it every now and then with his thumb to smudge it. He kept looking at it and finding some flaw. He redid the one line that seemed just fine, erasing it and doing it again, then that slight stroke of the thumb, then blowing over it and looking at from another angle. This was fun to watch.

He went on for the next twenty minutes and she seemed as immersed in the picture as him. Now she felt satisfied every time he drew a fresh line and erased the older one- she knew why it didn’t look perfect. She even pointed at the eye and said “tch tch”. He went back and stared at the picture again, nodded, erased the tip and re did it. He looked up at her. “Hmmm” she said, approvingly. It was almost done. The ‘Weed Goddess’ looked ethereal. She had big almond shaped eyes, they looked cold and she looked knocked out. Between her lips was a half burnt joint that gave out a thin line of smoke. Her nose, like a Greek goddess- sharp and her face, chiselled and square. Her hair was long and stood upwards. She had a long, graceful, seductive neck. Just then the bell rang and the teacher picked up the books and walked out. Obviously, not remembering any of the names. For them it was like a routine practice. Every year a new batch would come, an old one would go and it would take them at least a couple of months before they got a hang of all the names.

“You been to the cafeteria?” he asked.

“Nope. I was late. But I desperately need coffee. Where is it?”

“Come I’ll show you, I’m going to get me some too.”

He took her downstairs to the cafeteria. The stairs were made of stone, the building was so old that it could have crumbled beneath their feet. The cafeteria was huge- the same old walls with cracks in the paint.

“Do coffee bhaiyya. Strong, medium sugar” he told the vendor and gave him the change. She offered him a ten rupee note. He gave her the please-keep-it-to-yourself look. He handed her the cup.

And they sat on the next table sipping it quietly.

“Weed goddess. Why didn’t I think of that!” he chucked to himself.

“You paint too?” she asked.

“I do photography actually. All this -is just a way to keep me awake during the day. I can sleep almost 22 hours at a stretch. But yeah, I paint, very occasionally though. You?” he asked.

“Well I don’t know. I write sometimes I guess.”

“I see.”

For the first time she actually looked at his face. He was fair and had a stubble. Thick dark eyebrows, long nose, roundish face and small eyes. His eyes- they were light brown.

“The coffee’s good. I’m Ishaan by the way.”

“Aditi” she smiled.

Her smile was gorgeous. He just stared at her face for a second longer. It lit up her entire face. She was dusky with shoulder length dark hair, kohl lined big eyes and high cheekbones.

They both looked at each other at the same time and smiled, then went back to sipping their coffee.