La La Land

It had been a week since that disastrous lunch date meeting and Chiranjeev hadn’t been able to put it out of his mind. He was embarrassed with his rudeness and felt like a fraud any time he helped his children talk through their feelings or navigate fights.

He hadn’t even let her speak her piece! He had dismissed her, much like everyone at the haveli had when she had dared to say something uncomfortable. It did not sit well with him and he needed a way to make it up to her. But how was he supposed to go back from I don’t want to be your friend?

The inspiration came from Swati one day when she walked up to him, apologised and thanked him for helping her through the lesson plans. It was straightforward, no flaff, no excuses. If she could show that courage, so could he.

On another Tuesday night, done with everything for the day, he sat in his bed and opened his chat thread with Chanderi.

I’m sorry. That was rude of me and I didn’t even let you say everything you had to say.

He kept his phone away so he wouldn’t check it obsessively but when five minutes went by and there was no response, he opened the book Munni Monster that he was to help Swati turn into a play for the school’s annual function.

He stayed well past his bedtime, hoping she would respond but when she didn’t, accepting defeat, he went to sleep.

The next morning, there was no new message from her. So, like a rational person, he sent her another message.

I know I said I didn’t want to be friends but that’s not because I don’t like you. It’s because I love

Chiranjeev huffed before deleting that last word.

I know I said I didn’t want to be friends but that’s not because I don’t like you. It’s because it’s hard being just friends.

No, no, no, he thought. That sounded worse.

I know I said I didn’t want to be friends but you’re already my friend. In fact, you’re my only non-school, non-parent, non-teacher related friend. Please?

That was playing dirty, but desperate times.

He left his phone on the bed so he could get dressed. He had gotten into the habit of wearing the same blue shirt and brown trousers to school. His children loved to joke it was his uniform but it was just easy to remove this decision from his life. He was in-charge of moulding the minds of the future generation. He didn’t want to dither on fashion choices.

He checked his phone only once he was fully dressed and could spare five minutes on moping in case there was no response. But there was one.

You said please.

Okay, that didn’t reveal much but it was a start. He could work with that.

Please tell me.

His allotted five minutes went by so fast, he cursed as he looked at his watch. He was going to be late. He left the house, hoping while he waited for the lift, her message would come through.

First, I don’t blame you for your reaction. But thank you for saying you’re sorry.

Second, it was mindboggling when I came home to see that your parents had come over for Sunday brunch? Apparently our parents do that now.

Third, what I did not get to say to you was…you fell in love with me, but I didn’t. I had already made that mistake with Adeet and I didn’t want to repeat it. Besides, you deserve better than someone who may or may not have loved you.

Chiranjeev ran through the messages in such a hurry, he had to read them thrice to really grasp what Chanderi was saying. His steps faltered and tears stung his eyes. But he was in school and he’d have to put a pin on his feelings.

He didn’t want to leave her hanging though.

Thank you for telling me. I’m at school now so I’ll…I’m not ignoring you. I just need to submit my phone at the reception. I’ll message you later. Have a great day.

He switched off his phone and put it in the box that Rita was holding out to all the teachers. He pasted a smile on his face as he made his way to class on the third floor.

---

Chapter 12 of 26 of the ongoing series Chanderi. You can read all posts here. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.