As You Smile It

 

“I’ll be right back,” said Mrunal, in an awkward attempt to excuse herself from the crowd. She grabbed a coffee from the counter and walked towards the window to get some fresh air. Standing comfortably at the sill with a cup of coffee in her hand, Mrunal stared through the clear glass window. She heaved a sigh of nostalgia as fond memories from the past rushed towards her like a gust of wind. She flinched and carefully wiped a tear rolling down her cheek, ensuring no one had noticed. Mrunal felt thankful for accepting the invitation and attending the reunion. She watched cars drive past her school. Innocently enough for the sake of old times, she started counting them one by one. When the numbers became too much for her to remember, she abandoned the task. 

Mrunal’s school building overlooked a small basketball court, a parking lot where buses of all sizes were parked, an attractive floral garden, watchman’s cabin and a huge black gate. The long, three-lane Mumbai-Bangalore highway stretched alongside the building. As Mrunal correctly noticed, the once vacuous area had now become a busy place with constant hustle and bustle everywhere. New residential complexes, few shops of sanitary ware, a couple of garages, fancy showrooms of clothing and cars that only the rich could afford were now seen in the area where many years ago, her school was the only noticeable infrastructure.  

Mrunal was always attracted to the details of everything. Be it the balloons that decorated the walls, the aromatic food that was being served, bright colours worn by the people. She walked through the hallway slowly and turned towards the staircase - camera in hand ready to capture the scenes downstairs - when suddenly she screamed and dropped her camera on the floor. 

“I’m really sorry. Is the camera alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Mrunal to the man she had bumped into. She looked at him as if she knew him but couldn’t recognize him. 

“Are you still into jollies, Rohan?” Mrunal almost shouted out of excitement, looking at the man’s palm. She knew what was coming ahead. Rohan stopped, turned and started walking towards her, baffled. 

“I’m having a jolly jolly, will you give me a trolley, Polly?” Rohan laughed. Mrunal stared at him in utter amusement and giggled as he sung.

“Nooo sholly,” added Mrunal sheepishly. Rohan smiled back, just the way he used to fifteen years ago. 

“Oh my god, Mrunal! Glad to see you after so many years,” Rohan exclaimed, "wait, wait, wait, aren't you the writer of that book, umm name, name... yeah, 'Me as I See Myself'?"

"You know it!"

Rohan and Mrunal walked together towards the window. Mrunal waited as Rohan brought Sprite and snacks for both of them. She quickly picked her drink as he struggled to balance the drinks and snacks between his hands. Rohan had always been clumsy.

"Thank you. So, tell me something about yourself. How are you? And what do you do? Do you still play cricket? And what's with this jolly?" Mrunal interrogated curiously.

"Oh my God! One question at a time, lady."

Mrunal laughed. "As you wish," she said.

"I am fine, Mrunal. I run my father's construction business and touch wood am quite successful in it. Umm about cricket, yeah, I do play cricket, but not very often, a couple of club matches a month but that's it. And about this jolly," Rohan lifts his palm and points out his jolly, "I believe that drawing a small tattoo daily is better than snap streaks, just that."

"Oh," replied Mrunal.

"What happened? Is that too much?"

"Not really. But to hear this philosophy from you, definitely is."

"There's no philosophy, Mrunal. See, these social media apps are just a waste of time. There are a few that may be useful but nothing more than that."

"I am sure. I'm damn sure. You have changed a lot, Rohan."

"Good or bad?" Rohan winked as he said this.

"Good, obviously."

A minute of silence followed. They sipped their drinks and looked down at the long road to avoid awkwardness. Mrunal thought about the horrible mixture of Sprite and coffee that her stomach had to hold and smiled to herself. Rohan didn't fail to notice her grin.

"A joke? Are you laughing at me?" he asked.

"Then what are you laughing at? Me?"

"No, they were just my random thoughts. Sorry," said Mrunal, embarrassed.

"Anyways, tell me. How are you? How have you been? I like the way you've succeeded as a writer."

"Thank you, Rohan. I'm good too. I've shifted to Mumbai recently."

"Sounds cool," said Rohan.

"By the way, didn't you join those groups there?” He added, pointing towards the crowd that was sitting in the middle of the school assembly hall.

"Umm, I mingled with them some time ago, but I left. Didn't find the talks much interesting. You may join them if you want to," Mrunal replied.

Mrunal had always been like this. "Allergic to social interactions," Rohan teased her back then in school. She was an introvert, he knew it. Mrunal had been a good girl then. And now? She was still the same. Intelligent, kind, hardworking, detail-oriented, passionate, trustworthy was how others would describe her. But to Rohan, she was always cheerful, clumsy at times, her who-cares attitude was rare but not to him. She was tall, kind of pretty, a big prankster, her squeaks of laughter were hilarious, and she was just fun. This was what Rohan had thought of her, always. But today, he noticed something was off, something was amiss, not in place. 'What is it,' he thought, 'her looks? No. She looks beautiful, prettier than before. Is her work distracting her? No. She seems to enjoy this party totally. Then what?'

"Tell me, Rohan," said Mrunal, breaking the link of his thoughts.

"Yeah, go ahead," he said, trying to keep the schoolgirl Mrunal from his mind aside for a while.

"Why did you quit cricket? I mean you played cricket so well. You were in the school team, right? And you played till the state level, didn't you? Then what happened?” Mrunal bombarded her questions.

"Nothing specific happened, Mrunal. I didn't quit cricket altogether. I do play when I get time, but surely not like I used to play earlier," Rohan replied with a smile that was unnatural.

'This surely isn't the Rohan I know,' she thought as she observed the way in which his face faked indifference even while talking about quitting his passion, as if he was used to it. Mrunal never imagined Rohan would change, and even if he did, it was impossible to this extent. To her and everyone else Rohan had always been a naughty, carefree, not so good in academics, yet smart, bossy, strong but a kind boy who lived in the moment. What will happen in the future never mattered to him. That Rohan, standing in front of Mrunal was totally a different person. According to her, only his face and name matched with the schoolboy Rohan she knew. This whole lot of confusion went on endlessly in her mind armoring it with a bunch of unanswered questions. She decided not to think about the past and focused on the present.

"As far as I remember, Mrunal," said Rohan as if it was his turn to break her thoughts now, "weren't you aspiring to become a researcher back then? As high as your grades went, everyone believed you would surely become one. Is this writer thing an accident?"

“Not an accident actually. Yes, I always thought I would be a researcher when I would grow up. In fact, I was even taking efforts towards it. But then, at some point of time in the middle of my courses I felt like I wasn’t enjoying it. Things that I learned stopped fascinating me. The laws, the theorems, the diagrams, the formulae didn’t excite me anymore. And so, I took my decision, I dropped off.”

“Did your parents agree with your decision? Did they support you?”

“No, not when I told them I wanted to do something else. That I wanted to write. They looked at me as if I was a fool standing in front of them. Many arguments, debates, melodramatic situations took place. They gave me reasons to listen to them and I gave them reasons to listen to my heart. Eventually, they had to agree unwillingly.”

“Are they happy now?” Rohan’s voice showed real concern.

“Yes, Rohan. They are the happiest. And they are proud too.”

Both of them smiled at each other, a smile of comfort, easiness and faith.

Mrunal sipped the last few drops of her drink and placed the empty glass down. Rohan saw it and asked her if she would like to have more. When Mrunal denied, Rohan went to the counter to refill his glass and chatted with his friends. When he returned, he noticed that Mrunal was lost in her own thoughts. He couldn’t make out what was going on in her mind. He stayed silent for a minute. When the silence became too much for him to bear, he finally asked her.

“What are you thinking, Mrunal? Is anything disturbing you?” Rohan said.

Mrunal cleared her throat before beginning.

“I’m observing you since we met some time ago. You have changed so much, Rohan. I hope everything is good with you. What has caused this transformation in you?” she said.

Rohan smiled at her innocence.

“People change, Mrunal. At some point or the other in your life, you have to change, act practically. Situations compel you to do so. It is just that in my life, that moment came a little too early,” replied Rohan.

“How early was that?”

“Immediately after school, Mrunal. Few months before our 11th standard started I had to take over my dad’s business. He was obliged to shift to a faraway city to look after some really important things there. So, the responsibility of my family and the business came upon me.”

“Oh,” was all that she could manage.

“To be honest, I didn’t feel ready initially. But as days passed by, I started realizing the seriousness of the situation. And once I accepted it I was unstoppable. I had to think practically, had to become more future-oriented. I changed. And see, here we are!”

Mrunal kept quiet as she let Rohan’s words sink in. Later, they talked about everyday things. They inquired about each other’s parents and how they were, they gossiped about the people at the party, they asked whether they met the teachers and friendly bantered about whether the teachers looked happier after meeting Mrunal or Rohan. They ask each other whether their favorites had changed or did Rohan still use the same pen that he used in school and did Mrunal still buy everything of blue colour, when all of a sudden, a question arose in Rohan’s mind.

“What about marriage? Did you find your person?” he asked. Mrunal chuckled and nodded yes.

“What about you?” she asked him. 

“Yes too. So, everything’s happily ever after?” he laughed at the way he used those words.

“Not really. But it will be that way soon,” Mrunal said and her voice trailed off.

“What happened? Are you okay?” asked Rohan.

“Actually, I was diagnosed with mild depression a few years ago. I had started losing interest in ordinary everyday things. Making me happy had been a difficult task for my family. The condition lasted for longer time than I had expected it would. And that made me more anxious. My favorite things didn’t excite me anymore. I even went through a writing block for almost ten months. And ‘Me as I See Myself’ is the first book I wrote after that phase. And yes, I am recovering now,” Mrunal avoided eye contact with him as she said this. Rohan became speechless for a moment. He pat her back and smiled at her, as if to cheer her up.

“You know what Mrunal? Like you I had also noticed something was amiss. Just like my story shocked you, the thing that you told me right now has shocked me. I knew writers are not what they appear to us. But to this extent? Unbelievable.”

“You can’t always be predictable, Rohan. Go with the flow. Keep moving ahead,” said Mrunal, calmly.

“Okay. Can I have your autograph please?”

“Sure,” Mrunal’s eyes sparkled.

“And one more thing. A photo? On that camera?”

“Why not?”

“I hope your husband won’t mind,” he said hesitantly.

“Of course not, come,” Rohan’s comment made her laugh. 

Mrunal clicked a beautiful photograph.

On her way back home, Mrunal kept thinking about how just one situation in life is capable of changing people. Of course, Rohan had changed for good, she knew. But somewhere deep within, she missed the old Rohan. He surely had taught her something today, she had learnt that life is what you make it. She smiled to his calm, confident yet naughty face as she hit ‘Save Contact’ on her mobile.

Rohan didn’t go home after the reunion party. He headed straight to a temple near the school. He prayed to God wholeheartedly, only he knew after how many days. The smile on his face refused to fade off. He had learned a couple of things today. One, never stop smiling. We always take our smiles, our happiness for granted. What if one day we’ll not be able to smile, to laugh, however hard we try? We cannot even imagine that situation but the most cheerful people like Mrunal had been through it. And two, life is not always like it seems to be. People have gone through situations that we are least aware of and no one knows what is coming ahead. So, keep moving, always.

Rohan opened the Amazon app on his phone and placed an order for all books authored by Mrunal Desai till date. He knew, till he’d be back from work the next day, one whole lot of happiness, the books, would be ready at his doorstep.

Disha Thosar