College Days (Ch. 7)

7. Chingari Koi Bhadke

7. Chingari Koi Bhadke

The dance class had just ended. Avani walked out of the dance studio, her ponytail swinging as she talked animatedly with her classmate. They were still arguing over a difficult dance move. Her friend demonstrated it, a sharp spin with a fluid flick of the wrist. Avani tried to mimic it but lost balance halfway through.

“Uff, hopeless!” her friend teased.

(The first chapter of the series can be read via below link:)

College Days (Ch. 1) (Nothing Has Changed)

“I’ll practised it at home,” Avani promised.

Her friend slung her bag on one shoulder, hopped onto her Scooty and sped off down the road.

Avani also adjusted the strap of her dance bag and turned towards the gate. She froze.

Across the road, half-hidden behind an auto-rickshaw, stood Neil.

For a second, she didn’t believe her eyes. The bag slipped from her shoulder and tumbled to the ground. He was waving at her.

Her hand instinctively flew to her mouth. Her heart did a somersault.

His grin extended from ear to ear. She pointed her finger as if to confirm his presence. He signalled a thumbs up with a smile and approached her.

Each step brought them closer making their breath heavier. The traffic blurred into background noise. For a few seconds, the world around them ceased to exist. His steps were longer, hurried; hers hesitant, light.

When they finally stood face-to-face, Avani’s breath caught.

“Wow! Tum! Yaha… kaise (What are you doing here)?”

Both of them were thrilled to see each other. She leaned forward to give him a hug but he extended his hand for a handshake. They collided and laughed. They couldn’t contain their excitement and stared at each other, expecting the other to speak up.

“Strange, right?” she said finally. “We can’t stop blabbering when we are on the phone, but face to face… nothing.”

He smiled but didn’t answer. Instead, he took a few steps back.

“What are you doing?”

He whipped out his phone. A second later, her cell phone buzzed. He gestured her to pick it up.

“Hello!” she said, suppressing a grin.

“Hey! I am in Jaipur for a couple of days. Will you be interested for Jaipur Darshan (Sightseeing)?”

Avani tilted her head, playing along. “Jaipur Darshan is so common. If you’re really interested, I’ll show you my favourite place.”

“Where?”

“Yaha se pachaas kos dur (150 km far from here).”

They burst into laughter and put down their phones.

“Cool!”

“Okay, then. Get ready by 5 o’ clock. I will arrange a bike,” Avani suggested.

“5 o’ clock,” Neil mumbled.

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The next morning, Neil waited for Avani at the porch of his hotel. He saw a Royal Enfield bike coming towards him. For a second, he wished to drive it. The bike rolled up with a comforting, familiar growl and screeched to a halt in front of him. When the rider took off the helmet, his jaw dropped. It was Avani. She greeted him and took out a Harley-Davidson jacket from her backpack for him.

“What happened? You look sleepy.”

“You asked to meet at 5 o’ clock,” Neil replied, ducking his head into the jacket.

“So! You didn’t sleep at all or what?”

“That was the only option. One of the sins of college life.”

“Have you seen your eyes? You need a nice cup of tea. Get on the pillion seat.”

He hopped on it comfortably. She put on the helmet and manoeuvred the bike through the city and out onto the state highway.

They stopped at the Rampyaari Chai Centre and asked for a cup of tea. The small roadside tea stall served tea, coffee and a few snack items. A few benches were arranged before the stall. Neil and Avani settled on one of the benches. The morning was cold enough to make conversation crisp; the hour-long ride had left them both wrapped in a pleasant numbness. As soon as the owner served tea and freshly fried onion pakoras, they attacked them. A fresh sip of hot tea instilled new life in them.

The sun was about to emerge out over the horizon. It was playing Holi with the sky every minute. The sky turned from greyish to violet to purple to reddish orange. The view was entrancing. When a faint light crept into the sky, greenfield glowed majestically in the rising sun. The moment was magical. A flock of birds zig-zagged across as if welcoming the sunrise. It was the best start to their trip.

Suddenly, Avani’s phone buzzed.

“Shit! Pia must be waiting for me for college. I will drop a message.”

“Cool! I will also inform Chinu for a proxy.”

She stopped typing.

“You…are…asking…Chinu…to…fill…your…proxy.”

“Yeah! Why do you falter? What happened?”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t tell me that you have never asked anyone for proxy ever.”

“I never felt a need for a proxy. Most of the time, we have mass bunks. So, I don’t mind attending classes.”

“Then, ask for a proxy today.”

“My attendance is almost full. I don’t mind taking a day off.”

“This is not a matter of attendance. The proxy has its own thrill and charm.”

“I am okay.”

“Are you scared?”

“Listen, Avani darti nahi, daraati hai (Avani never gets afraid but scares others).”

“Then, drop a message for the proxy.”

She shrugged.

“Arey! How can you stay away from the thrill of proxy? What kind of stories will you share with your grandchildren? Will you tell them that you are a boring person? I didn’t expect this from you.”

“You are a bad, bad person.”

Finally, she dropped the message for a proxy.

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After riding the bike for around two hours through green farmlands and a lot of villages, Avani stopped outside a post office in a small town market. From there, the rest of the journey had to be covered on foot due to muddy paths. Since it was Saturday that day, a weekly shopping market-Shanivaari bazaar was held. It was crowded and noisy- people from the nearby villages had gathered around to shop for their weekly household needs. Avani and Neil also bought a few clothes and handicraft items for themselves and then strode down on a kuccha road passing through the local village.

Neil had only seen this life on television before: children playing gully cricket, women balancing pitchers on their hips, men herding cattle with a quirk of a stick. They stumbled across a bullock cart on their way and boarded it. It was a bumpy ride but a memorable one. After they crossed the village, they entered the farmlands. The bullock cart driver took them to his farms and offered them fruits and roasted peanuts. They ate it and then set off towards their final destination-her favourite place.

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After walking for another half an hour, they reached the foot of a hill crowned with a lesser-known fort. Without wasting another minute, they started stepping up.

Image Source: Rajasthani Fort by Roman Saienko

But the climb was steep and a bit tough. It was one of the reasons for being the least favourite among the tourists.

“The path leading to the fort was intentionally made uneven to avoid any attack on the fort. Even horses will find it difficult to climb,” Avani said.

Neil was panting. However, when he reached the top, he was thrilled to see the glorious fort.

“So, what is the story behind this fort?”

“This is the glorious Noor-Mahal, built by Raja Rudrapratap Singh for his beloved queen Sanam. He loved her more than anyone else in the whole world. As she followed the Islamic faith, he knew that she might be in danger from his well-wishers. So, he built this fort on the top of this hill.”

The fort was surrounded by a fifteen feet high wall for protection but it was in ruined condition now. The entrance was constructed in such a manner that the soldiers on the top of it had a clear shot on the attacking army.

They entered the fort and found a few people roaming around and posing for a photo session. The fort premise included a palace, servant quarters, a horse stable, a granary and a temple with a stepwell beside it. The palace was ruined but looking at it gave an idea that it would have been glorious in its heydeys. Not too big or opulent but enough for the honour of the queen. It still had the remnants of its glorious past- a beautiful entrance with carved pillars, spacious rooms and courtyards.

Though the architecture was inspired by the Mughal architectural style, the king being a Shiva devotee had constructed a temple inside its perimeter. The exterior wall of the temple was beautifully carved in Sanskrit. Most of it was ruined.

“Can you read these inscriptions?” Avani asked.

“Yeah, it is written in Hindi. I mean, Sanskrit.”

“But, the beauty is that the language used is Arabic.”

“Oh! You mean, like our Hindi message in English letters.”

“Exactly! But the verses were encrypted, very difficult to decipher. Last year, a team of archaeologists came to study it. Everything seemed to be gibberish to them. The only verse they could decipher was: Water is a channel for life.”

Neil laughed at that.

“Let’s go inside the Shiva temple,” he suggested.

“Cool! But we have to wash our hands and legs in that step well first. It’s a ritual over here.”

They descended down into the step well.

“The drinking water for the queen was collected from here,” Avani said.

Neil studied the design of the stepwell and commented, “This doesn’t make sense.”

“What?”

“This stepwell is drawing water from a natural stream but it doesn’t seem to overflow.”

“This is one of the ancient engineering marvels. To keep water fresh and cool, there is a secret circular water channel that leads the overflowing water out from here to the lake beneath this hill.”

They washed their feet and climbed the steps back to the temple. They plucked a few jilledu flowers and leaves of Indian bael to offer to Lord Shiva. Avani warned him on the poisonous nature of the flowers. He asked her why it was allowed to grow then. She replied if it was mixed with other plants, it could also serve as an antidote. Chemistry is magic.

After worshipping Lord Shiva, she led him to a minaret constructed of red sandstone. It contained a spiral staircase of almost a hundred uneven steps. A warning board hung there instructing not to climb but Avani ignored it and motioned Neil to follow her.

The view from the minaret’s summit was breath-taking. They sat there for a while, enjoying the bird’s-eye view of the farmlands, the scattered village houses and the gleaming lake.

A cool breeze swept through. She gazed at him.

“Itni kaatil nazaron se mat dekho (Don’t give me that murderous look). I may die!” Neil teased.

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I will hunt down Dragon balls for you.”

Neil nodded with a wide grin and then looked at the ruins of stone columns.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“One more architectural marvel of those days,” she explained. “There was a large bell over here. If one rang it, the air current was such that it would alert soldiers sitting over that highest point almost a kilometre away.”

“If this place was so secure, then how did it turn into a khandar (ruins)?

Avani cleared her throat and started singing the old song from the movie ‘Amarprem’.

Chingaaree koi bhadake,

To saawan use buzaaye;

Saawan jo agan lagaaye,

Use kaun buzaaye?

(When a spark flares up,

The rains extinguish it;

But if the rains light a fire,

Who will put it out?)

Before she could sing the next line, a guard located them and cursed them for climbing the restricted minaret. She seized his hands and quickly stepped down.

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They got down the hill faster than they had climbed it.

Beneath the hill, they found the queen’s tomb and a child’s little stone beside it. They paid respects. By the lake some children were splashing; Neil dived and joined them without thinking. He called her to join them but she refused.

When he emerged, she quipped, “You were enjoying like a pig.”

“Tum gaali de rahi ho yaa taarif kar rahi ho (Are you praising me or insulting me)?”

“Of course, gaali de rahi hu (I am insulting you)!”

“What did you say?”

He squinted his eyes.

“Nothing.”

She gave a wicked smile and retraced her steps back.

“I will kill you.”

She quickened her steps and ran. He chased her.

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At the local dhaba, Neil went to the storage room to change his clothes. He pulled out the clothes that he had bought at a local Shanivaari market.

Her phone buzzed. She picked it up.

“Shit!”

He came forward while buttoning his shirt.

“What happened?”

“For the first time in my life, I asked someone for a proxy but got caught.”

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The roll numbers were called in the class. Pia uttered ‘Present’ when Avani’s name was called out. She punched her fist in the air to celebrate her victory. But later, the professor announced, “Students, we are distributing our annual magazine. Each one of you will have to come over here, sign on this sheet and collect it.”

“Uh-oh!”

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“This is your fault,” Avani patted his back. She was on the pillion seat while Neil was riding the bike this time.

“How is it my fault?” Neil argued with a smirk.

“How can you stay away from the thrill of proxy?” Avani mocked.

Neil laughed loudly.

“Don’t laugh,” Avani said and hit again.

“Hey, don’t hit me else we will fall…”

“That will be better than the embarrassment of proxy.”

Neil guffawed.

Later, Avani also grinned from ear to ear.

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(Continued in the next chapter.)

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